


Where This Road May Go

by katya_raves_on



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia Fusion, Alternate Universe - No Curse, F/M, The Enchanted Forest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katya_raves_on/pseuds/katya_raves_on
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anastasia-inspired Enchanted Forest AU.</p>
<p>Emma Swan finds herself once more faced with an open road and decided to return to her search for the family she no longer remembers.  Her search brings her into the path of Robin Hood and Captain Hook- two criminals who are looking for someone to play to role of the lost princess.  They believe she is the perfect fit for the part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Killian wasn’t ungrateful, no matter what the head cook might say later when he tried to sneak back into kitchens. He really wasn’t- he knew exactly how much he and Liam owed to Queen Snow and Prince Charming. They had taken the boys off the streets after their father had abandoned them, given Liam a post in the Royal Navy and Killian a job in the royal kitchens (at least until he was old enough to join his brother). They gave the young Jones brothers a chance for a good life when everyone else had overlooked the pair as street rats. As such, Killian has always deeply admired and respected the benevolent monarchs, so it certainly was not ingratitude which drew him away from his duties. No- it wasn’t that at all. He just hated balls.

The kitchens had been boiling over with activity for the past three days in preparations, with an emphasis on the boiling. Between the body heat of the servants constantly dancing around, and the heat of the cook fires themselves, the kitchens- which were usually fairly tolerable on an average day- became intolerable during large events. Killian reasoned that he really could not be blamed for wanting to take a short break, especially since he had been dragged out of his cot before dawn to begin work. Therefore, he did not feel at all bad for sneaking off through the hidden corridors of the palace with a pilfered apple in hand (no one would miss one measly apple amidst the fine feast anyway). He would never try to dodge his responsibilities completely- he would just have his snack, catch his breath, take a quick peek at the party, and then return to work.

Carefully, he drew aside the curtain that separated his hidden passage from the main ballroom to get a glimpse of the splendour beyond. The hall was lit from above with dozens of chandeliers, whose glow played among the opulent fabrics draping the wealthy guests elow. Despite having lived in the presence of royalty for nearly a year now- and having spied on several such events- Killian still could not understand the sheer excess of the event. There was an abundance of everything- from gems to cakes- and it was entirely at odds with the poverty he had experienced for most of his ten years of life. Despite the relative comfort he now enjoyed, his eyes hardly knew where to look when presented with such a grand sight. At least, until he caught sight of the young princess weaving recklessly between full skirts and polished shoes, attempting to reach the thrones not far from his own hiding place.

At only eight years of age, the young princess was already like sunlight itself- all shining hair and bright smile. Killian was used to seeing her hair tumbling loose over her shoulders as she ran through the corridors, some exasperated nursemaid trailing after her, but tonight her hair was piled perfectly atop her head, and though it bobbed in her eagerness to reach her family, not a strand fell out of place. Her dress, too, was markedly more formal than her everyday-wear, which tended to become covered in grass-stains and dirt. The green of the silk, however, matched her eyes in the same way those grass-stains normally would, so it was not nearly as terrible as it could have been. Overall, Killian though the princess looked very proper, if not at all like herself. The way she giggle when her father swung her up into his arms, however, was entirely true to her character.

Killian grinned around a mouthful of apples as he watched the father and daughter dance their way closer to the thrones.

“Now, Duckling, you cannot just go running around like that during a ball.” The blonde prince scolded her lightly; he never really could manage to be strict with his daughter.

“I’m sorry, Papa, I couldn’t help it. I’m excited!” Killian very nearly gave himself away with a laugh at her attempt to look contrite, which was completely undone by the relentless upward tug of her lips. Her father, however, seemed to accept the apology, only chuckling and bending down to place a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“Do you think I might find my True Love tonight?” She continued with a new earnestness, her eyes scanning the room with a hopeful glimmer.

This got a full-on laugh from the Prince, “I am hoping that you are still a bit young for that, Duckling.” Seeing her pout, he quickly added, “But you are growing up quickly and beautifully. You are more and more like your mother every day. In fact, I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to call you my little Duckling- you are becoming more of a swan every day.” With those last words, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver chain with a delicate swan pendant hanging on its end.

The princess’ eyes widened in disbelief and delight, “For me?”

Her father nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips as he reached to fasten the clasp around her neck. Her fingers instantly found the small bird, bringing it up for inspection. “It’s beautiful, Papa! Thank you!”

“That’s not all…” The Prince grabbed her hand and led her to the thrones, prompting Killian to shrink further back in the shadows. He immediately craned his neck out again in an attempt to get a better look at the ornate little box the Prince now held. Killian was startled from his eavesdropping by a hand clamping down on his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be in the kitchens, boy?

Killian looked back and gulped. It was just another servant, but he did not want to get in any trouble. He was not about to do anything to ruin the life he had now.

“Aye. I am just heading back there now.”

The other servant looked suspicious, but nodded, “See that you do.”

Killian moved to head back down the corridor, only looking back long enough to see the Princess Emma throwing her arms around her father’s neck, a smile splitting her face. He felt a small grin pull at his own cheeks in response even as he dragged his feet reluctantly back towards the stifling kitchens.

*****************************************************************************************************************************

The ball was winding to an end, and the mayhem from earlier had decreased to a steady buzz of activity when the first screams ripped through the halls. It began in the distance, growing closer and bringing with it the harsh clang of swords ringing off the stone walls. Servants throughout the kitchen slowed- and then completely halted- their work. Looks of fear and confusion flew around the room, as everyone tried to find the answers that none of them had. Killian felt the cold tendrils of dread wrapping around his shoulders, piercing his chest as one of the men close to him whispered the words on everybody’s minds, “It sounds like an attack.”

Images of the Queen, the Prince, and the smiling Princess forced themselves to the front of his mind until he was left with only one coherent thought. Protect them.

That mantra repeated itself to the beat of his racing heart as he sprinted from the kitchens, through the servants’ quarters, and back towards the main hall. He caught disjointed words from servants fleeing in the opposite direction.

“...only a matter of time…”

“...the Dark One…”

“...the Royals ran, we should too…”

“...the Dark One- here!”

“...run, lad!”

“...in the War Room…”

“...they’ve hidden…”

Killian took a quick left, changing his course to lead him to the War Room. There weren’t any servants’ tunnels leading directly into that particular room for security reasons, but he was able emerge from a small, unobtrusive door just a few steps away from its entrance within moments. The door was closed- and likely barred- despite the emptiness of the corridor.

Killian impatiently banged his fist against the woods. “Your Majesties?! Please, let me in!” A quick scraping sounded from the other side, and he ceased knocking just in time for the door to creak open.

“Killian?” Queen Snow lowered her drawn bow and swiftly stepped aside, motioning him in with a nod of her head. Barely inside the room, the door was once more secured behind him and Killian found himself in an intimidating situation. Prince Charming, Queen Snow, and the Queen (Step) Mother Regina all looked at him with expectant and confused expressions. Even Princess Emma, who had been hiding further back in the room, looked startled by his presence. Killian allowed himself one deep, steadying breath- summoning all the courage Liam had encouraged in him. He would do his duty and he would make his brother proud; he would help the Royal family escape.

“Your Majesties,” he addressed them with a slight bow of his head, “I think I know a way you get out of the castle.” Without waiting for a response, he walked across the room, pretending he was not affected by their dubious stares. When he reached a particular bracket of torches against the far wall, he turned to face them once more, while triggering the hidden door. “This tunnel will lead you out by the lake. It’s completely frozen this time of year, so you should be able to cross it without issue.”

He did not dare to meet any of their gazes, but felt the Queen’s hand land softly on his shoulder. “How…?” Her question was cut short by the sound of boots echoing in the corridor outside.

“There’s not time, Your Majesty. Please go. I’ll try to hold them off.” Although terror seemed to have replaced his very blood, Killian’s words were spoken without even a slight waver. The Prince caught his eye as he pulled his daughter towards the open doorway, giving him a grim but respectful nod. As the group jostled through the rather small opening, Killian saw a small object hit the floor- the small box the Prince had given the Princess only hours before. That moment already seemed a lifetime ago to Killian, his fingers closing around the box. He turned toward the passageway, intending to call to the already-distant Royals and return it to them, but the splintering of the main door stopped him. Instinctively, he grabbed the torch bracket, closing the doorway and arming himself with a torch in the process.

With a sickening crack, the door gave way against a tide of dark chainmail and heavy boots. Without skill or accuracy, Killian waved the flames at his foes. He did not harbour any hopes or illusions about fighting off the soldiers and saving himself, but every moment he could hold them back was one more that the Royals’ escape might go unnoticed. So, he dodged swords and clubs, striking out in turn and managing to singe one or two of his opponents. Even so, it was only a matter of minutes before his courageous stand was brought to an end by a blow to the back of his head. The world disappeared as he hit the floor.

**************************************************************************************************************************************

Emma could hardly hear the sound of feet pounding against the ice over the rising symphony of her racing pulse and her laboured breaths. Although she was moving quickly- faster than she had ever moved before, in fact- her mind was as frozen as the lake beneath her. The only emotion left inside of her was terror, spurring her forward as surely as her father’s hand closed tightly around her own. She did not know where they were running to- had no idea where they could possibly be safe from the Dark One- but she knew that she could not stop moving. Her eyes stayed trained on her parents and her step-grandmother running just ahead of her, refusing to look back at the life they were all leaving behind.

When a hand clamped down around her free arm, then, she was caught completely off-guard. For a brief moment, when she was too stunned to cry out, her father did not notice and continued to pull her forward. Caught between the two forces, she stumbles, finding both her voice and her wits in the fall. She screamed as she whirled to kick at her assailant.

Rumplestiltskin.

She knew his shining grey-green skin and unnatural eyes from the stories her parents had told her. Sometimes helping them, sometimes helping their enemies, the Dark One had always woven his way in and out of her parents’ love story. Always, she had been warned of his great and terrible powers.

...and now he had her in his grasp.

Her eyes widened in fear as she was pulled up and into his arms, turned once more to face her family.

They all stood tensed, ready for battle. Her father’s sword was raised, her mother’s bow drawn, and a fireball sat menacingly in Regina’s open palm. They were ready, but none of them dared move while Emma was in the line of fire. She felt frustration welling up inside of her: frustration that she had not been able to fight more, that she was helpless now. The feeling buzzed loudly around her head, drowning out the greater part of Rumplestiltskin’s taunts and threats. Only one broke through the noise-

 

“...and now you get to watch, Dearies, as I kill your precious child. It seems a fair price for keeping me from mine. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you join her soon after.”

NO! Emma’s mind was screaming now, finally forming a coherent thought. NO, YOU WILL NOT HARM MY FAMILY! 

She put all her strength into one more violent twist, stomping her foot backwards at the same moment. There was a low crack, and the hold on her loosened, giving her the chance she needed to leap free. The cracking continued, and when she looked back, she saw the once-solid ice give way beneath Rumplestiltskin. There was no time to think, let alone react, as she watched him slip into the black waters below. 

“He’s dead.” Her father said softly, with no trace of either guilt or relief in his voice.

Regina, who had been gazing at Emma with a strange thoughtfulness, snorted, “Hardly. The Dark One is immortal. It will probably take him a while to thaw out, so this has bought us some time.”

Snow nodded slowly, “Regina’s right. He’ll be back and he won’t stop coming after us. We have to keep moving.” Leaning down, she put a hand lightly on her daughter’s shoulder, “Emma, sweetheart, come on.”

Pulled forward once more, Emma began to run again. She did not know where they were going, but there was certainly no going back.

**********************************************************************************************************************************

As she soon learned, they had been running towards the town on the far edge of the lake- more specifically to the stables in that town. Her father had pounded against the stable owner’s door, until the bleary-eyed man opened up for them. Without much explanation, the Prince had shoved a heavy bag of gold into the perplexed owner’s hands while informing him that they would be taking his three best mounts immediately. The man had just nodded slowly, and moved to led them back to the stables without seeming to truly register any of the transaction, leaving the Royals to saddle their own mounts once he had indicated the direction of the equipment. The adults worked in grim, efficient silence; and they were outside sitting in their saddles in a matter of minutes.

Emma walked towards her moment, prepared to be pulled up into the saddle to join her, but stopped when she saw her mother shake her head.

“Charming, you take Emma. I want to have room to use my bow if I need it.” Emma stepped back towards her father’s horse, when she heard a crash from beside the stable’s door. The sleepy stable owner had silently been watching the group move around, and had been startled by the revelation that he was in the presence of Royalty. He had immediately attempted a move that would like have been a very courtly bow, had his hand not overturned a lantern- the glass shattered loudly against the quiet of the night and the oil flared in a quick, bright flash. The flames didn’t last, but the damage was already done elsewhere. The horses, despite being the best the stable had to offer, spooked at the noise and the fire, and bolted towards the tree line. Emma, who had been standing alongside her father’s steed, was flung to the ground by the horse’s flank. Her head hit the cobbles with a dull thud.

The world blurred and she had one moment to hear her mother calling out for her as her horse carried her further away before the world faded to black.


	2. Chapter 1

“Here are your belongings.”

Emma grunted with half-hearted gratitude at the old woman who shoved the pathetically meagre bundle into her arms.

Delightful, she thought as she walked towards the now-open gates of the women’s prison that had been her home for the last eleven months. Now what?

At least in prison, she’d been ensured regular meals and a bed each night, even if neither of those were of very good quality. Now she was on her own. The whole situation was uncomfortably familiar. She was gazing ahead at an open road, not knowing where the future had in store for her. Four years ago, she had looked upon that uncertainty with an equal mix of nerves and excitement. Some small part of her, back then, had clung to the belief that after her eighteenth birthday, once she was free of the orphanage, she would finally be able to find her family- despite having no memories of them. She had thought she actually had a year later, when Neal had taken her under his wing. Emma had been no stranger to crime before she’d met Neal- after all, she’d had to do something to survive on her own- but things had escalated with him by her side. Her partner in crime, literally. She had thought they were planning to get just enough to buy passage on a ship somewhere- to a place where they could make a real home together. She’d been wrong. He left her to take the fall for their crimes, disappearing everyone else had in her life. Leaving her to find out she was pregnant while she was in jail. She had given the baby away- she’d had no other choice. The wardens had told her that there was a rich woman somewhere who was interested in raising him. The only thing Emma really knew about her was that she lived somewhere outside the kingdom’s borders, beyond the reach of the Dark One. Emma sincerely hoped that he would have a good life, but she hated herself for not being able to give it to him herself.

This time, as she walked down the open road, she maintained no illusions about a home and family waiting for her at the end of it. She was clearly meant to be alone, that’s just how it was.

She looked down at the small bundle tucked under her elbow, shifting it and fumbling about until she was able to extricate a delicate necklace. She was partly surprised that the wardens had been honest enough to return it to her- it was certainly the most expensive thing she owned. An intricately crafted silver swan swung from a matching chain, its wings spread for flight. It was the only possession she retained from before she could remember. She had long ago outgrown the clothes she had been found in, unconscious on the steps of the orphanage. It had always seemed to her that the person who had given her such a beautiful, expensive item must have loved her. She had been worth at least that much to them. On lonely nights in the orphanage, she had clung to it as evidence that she had a family out there that wanted her, all she had to do was find them.

When she had first gotten out of the orphanage, she had actually begun a search for them. It had only truly amounted to a few subtle inquiries here and there: who should she talk to about the origin of items? Where could he be found? Did he have a price? All her questions had pointed to one man- Robin Hood, who lived ‘somewhere in Sherwood Forest’ with his band of Merry Men. She had been planning to go there before Neal happened.

Now, as Emma eyed the necklace, she thought that perhaps it was time for her to make the trip. Even if he couldn’t tell her anything about the necklace, she reasoned, he was the leader of a well-known band of thieves and he may have use for someone with her particular skillset. Hell, even just a change of location seemed like a good idea right now. Her face and reputation were undoubtedly known locally by now, and she was not fool enough to think that she could get away with her usual petty crimes where people were expecting it of her. Well, maybe she could get away with it, but it would be a lot harder than necessary. She needed a fresh start. So, with a destination in mind, but without any great expectations, Emma followed the road to its fork and, without hesitation, turned her steps toward Sherwood Forest, which she hoped the Merry Men still called home.

******************************************************************************************************************************************

“Killian-”

“It’s Captain now, Robin, mate.”

“Right. Well, since I have known you since your awkward puberty phase, I think I have the right to drop the formalities.”

Killian looked aghast, “You know as well as I do that I never had an awkward phase. I’ve always been devilishly handsome.” To emphasize size his point, he flourished his hand towards his stylishly-tousled hair, manicured scruff, and kohl-rimmed blue eyes.

Robin sighed, rubbing a hand along his own scruff in frustration, “That’s not the point…”

“Aye, I know. You were just about to say that you don’t see the point to all this.” Killian waved vaguely towards the stage in front of them, but he did mean all of it- the auditions they had been holding for a week now, the endless parade of women play-acting as the lost princess. Even he could admit that the whole thing was rather exhausting.

“It’s not just that. Though this has been exceedingly torturous.” He grimaced, “I’m still not convinced this a good idea.”

“Why, master thief, are you afraid of getting caught?”

Robin huffed, glaring at the smirking pirate seated next to him. “No. I have managed to avoid the attentions of the Dark One for the last fourteen years quite well, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Killian’s expression had grown stormy, but Robin ignored the change and pressed on. “I know you may have buried your scruples under all that leather, but I try to live by a code. Steal from the rich, give to the poor- and while the Royal Family is indeed rich, they are also good people. It’s not right to lie to them, to use their desperation for personal gain.”

“Mate, I am just as fond of our dispossessed monarchs as you are, but you are looking at this all wrong. We’ll be giving them exactly what they want; we’ll be giving them a daughter again. Who cares if it’s actually real, as long as they believe it? Besides, can you imagine the Dark One’s reaction when he finds out they are one big, happy family again?” He chuckled darkly.

“Killian, one of these days, your hatred for that man is going to get you killed.” Robin’s voice was laced with genuine concern, which Killian once again managed to brush off. Instead, he let the rage that always simmered just below the surface rise up for a moment.

“He’s not a man, he’s a Crocodile…”

His friend held up a hand to ward off the inevitable tirade, “I know. I truly do. I’ve had to live under that villain's reign, the same as everyone else in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Which brings me to another reason you need to go along with this plan. Roland. I know you want him to have a good life, away from here. The money from this one job can let you both live comfortably for years.”

Robin sighed again, leaning his head back again, “You’ve said this all before.”

“Aye, and it’s all still true. You’re just questioning things again because you’re frustrated.”

“You have to admit we have seen a lot of woman and not one of them looked remotely like the lost princess.”

Killian had to concede that, “True, but we’ll find the right lass eventually. She’s out there somewhere, mate, don’t give up before we’ve even begun.”

“Alright, but I am done for today.” Robin pushed himself out of his chair and stepped towards the door, “I’ll see you back at camp.”

Killian grabbed his flask as soon as he heard the door swing shut, taking a long pull and relishing in the burn of rum sliding down his throat. These auditions really were exhausting.

************************************************************************************************************************************* 

The Sherwood Forest may have only made up a fraction of the Enchanted Forest as a whole, but Emma had decided it was too damn big. Big enough for several villages, a couple of towns, and one central city. The city, naturally, had been her first stop. She figured there had to be at least one person there who could tell her how to get in touch with Robin Hood. Once again, she was wrong. People looked downright fearful when she brought up his name, eyes twitching left and right in search of law enforcement. Several people had actually run away from her or outright slammed doors in her face. So after a couple of days failing to learn anything useful- or anything at all- she ruled out the city, and started making her way to the smaller towns and villages. Those had been better, as people were more willing to talk about the man who was both notorious thief and generous benefactor, but even after visiting three such towns, no one had been able to tell her exactly where he made camp.

Now she was in the smallest village yet- a quaint little place with one main road and no name. She could see a couple of people strolling along but, while they did not look by any means wealthy, they did not look like the sort of riff-raff she would usually associate with a thief. With a sigh and tired feet, she dragged her way towards the small cottage that passed for an inn here. She felt a bit awkward pushing her way into way looked very much like someone’s home from the outside, but she shoved down the uncertainty as the wooden door groaned open. 

“Welcome.” Emma turned to see an older woman, somehow intimidating in an apron, with her hands on her hips. “What can I do for you?”

“Ummmm...this is an inn, right?” Emma scanned the open room a little skeptically. A large open hearth stood at one end and several rectangular tables with chairs clustered around them took up much of the remaining space. Only one of the seats was occupied, and that was by a tiny child with a mop of curly brown hair, who was barely tall enough kneeling on the chair to see over the table-top. A rickety-looking staircase claimed one back corner to itself, and Emma could only assume it led to bedrooms above.

“The only one around for miles.” The woman- the proprietor, Emma supposed- grunted in response. “You want a room?”

She nodded slowly, “How much would it be for one night?” She sniffed the air, catching the heavenly scent of hot food, and added, “And for a meal?”

For some reason, that seemed to amuse the older woman, who chuckled and gave her an approving look. “Don’t worry, the room is cheap enough, and the food is free.” Emma had already opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t need or want charity, when the old woman continued. “Just make sure you tell anyone you meet that Granny makes the best stew you’ve ever had.”

That drew a laugh from her, “Fair enough. I’d like to wash up a bit before I eat, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, dear. Up the stairs, second door on the right will be your room. There should be a basin and pitcher in there already. If there isn’t any water, just give me a holler and I’ll bring you some.” Emma took the offered key and made her way upstairs. With the promise of a good meal as a motivator, it didn’t take her long to put her few belongings away, clean off the top layer of dirt from her hands and her face, and head back downstairs.

She briefly considered sharing a table with the small boy who was now eagerly digging into his own bowl of soup, but she thought better of it when she considered that Granny might not take well to a stranger talking to her charge. She took a spot closer to the stairs instead, knowing Granny had already seen and would bring the food over. Emma couldn’t help but watch the little boy as surreptitiously as possible while she waited, he was undeniably adorable. He was probably spilling more stew on the table than he was getting into his mouth, and she felt a small smile tug at her lips. She couldn’t help but wonder what her own son would look like at that age, or what he looked like now, even. She was snapped from her reverie by a bowl being carefully set in front of her.

“So what brings you to our little corner of nowhere?” Granny asked as Emma picked up her spoon. She quickly shovelled a spoonful of stew into her mouth to give herself a moment to prepare a response. The old woman seemed nice enough, if a bit brusque, and while innkeepers weren’t her go-to source for information about illicit activity, they usually had a good handle on local gossip. She swallowed, deciding on a half-truth.

“I’m searching for my family. Unfortunately, this…” She paused to tug on the chain around her neck to reveal the pendant that had been lying against her heart, “is all I have to go on.” Emma tried not to look to expectant as she waited for a reply. If the old woman knew anything about Robin Hood, this was an opening for her to bring him into the conversation.

Granny studied the pendant for a moment without making a move to touch it, which Emma appreciated. Then she smiled sadly and shook her head, “That’s a beautiful pendant but it’s not much to go on. Maybe you should let it go. I could always use a hand around this place.” She gestured a vaguely around the room as Emma looked on in surprise. She certainly hadn’t anticipated a job offer.

“Ummm...well-” She tried to form a coherent response, but found herself at a loss. This whole quest had really only been to give her a sense of purpose, a reason for her to put one foot in front of the other for a while longer. It wouldn’t really be a big deal for her to give up on it, would it? She could just settle down in this little town and live quietly for the rest of her days. Her musings were cut short by brown curls bouncing in front of her face. The child had apparently finished his dinner and decided to join in on the conversation.

“I know what you should do!” He told her with the sort of excited certainty that only children could manage, his dimpled grin somehow making his face even more adorable.

Emma blinked, caught off guard, before breaking into a soft smile herself. Something about this kid melted her heart, just a little bit. “Yeah, kid? What’s that?”

“You should go see my Papa. He knows where all sorts of things come from. And he likes to help people.” He answered with a nod, as if it were already decided. Emma looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. It couldn’t be…

“What’s your Papa’s name?”

“Robin Hood.” Emma fought a smirk as he continued, “We live in the forest, but Granny’s watching me today because he had to work.” Emma nodded, giving a sidelong glance to the older woman who, curiously enough, had left the two odd companions to their conversation and returned to the hearth.

“Living in the forest sounds like fun. What’s your name, kid?”

“Roland.” He said proudly, drawing himself up to his full height, which still was not much at all.

“Well, Roland, it is lovely to meet you. My name is Emma. Is there any chance you could bring me to meet your papa?”

“Of course!” He turned to the inn-keeper and continued in a louder voice, “Granny! Is it okay if Emma takes me home, please?”

Granny turned to appraise her head to toe, giving her the feeling that her very soul was being measured. Apparently finding what she was looking for, she nodded her head once and replied, “Sure. I need more time to take care of things around here anyways. The two of you should head out soon though, wouldn’t want you getting lost in the dark.” She looked straight at Emma, adding, “Roland knows the way there, so you shouldn’t have any problems. You just make sure he gets there safely.”

Emma looked down at the adorable ball of energy next to her and nodded gravely. She knew the trust she was being given, and it was not something she took lightly. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”

“Good. Now get going.” Granny turned back to her cooking, and Emma’s face broke into a wide grin as she felt little fingers wrap around her own.

“Come on, Emma. Let’s go!”

 

Although Emma could not see even a hint of a path as Roland led her through the woods, he seemed sure enough about where they were going that she didn’t question it. The two had been chatting non-stop since they had left the inn, and she was surprised that they had found so much to talk about. She found this little boy reminding her more and more of the baby she had been forced to give up only months ago. Fortunately, the feeling was far more pleasant than her usual reminisces, it gave her a sense of maternal fondness for the child who was still leading her by the hand. She asked him about his life in the forest, with the Merry Men, and about his father. While he occasionally let spill interesting tid-bits- like his father’s code of honor and that someone called ‘Uncle Killian’ was working with him at the moment- Emma was more interested in the boy’s general enthusiasm about the topics. She could get information from his father, there was no reason for her to exploit the kid. Well, no more than she was already doing by letting him bring her to the Merry Men’s camp, she reasoned.

They were well into the woods- far enough that she was praying for an invitation to stay the night at the camp or an escort to guide her back to town- when she heard the crunch of heavy footsteps not far behind them. She froze, urging Roland to be quiet when he halted as well. As silently as she could manage with such dense foliage underfoot, she maneuvered the two of them behind a thick tree trunk and ducked down. Roland followed her lead without protest, making her wonder idly whether he was accustomed to this sort of thing by now. She cast her eyes back in the direction they had come, hoping that Roland might be able to identify whoever it might be as friend or foe.

It only took a few moments for a tall, dark figure to appear amidst the trees, still a little ways away. She cursed herself for not having heard his approach sooner- as he was making little attempt to mask his passage- she supposed that chatting to Roland had left her a bit distracted. From a distance, the most obvious thing she could distinguish was his apparel- all black from head to toe, with a long leather duster swinging around his legs. He was definitely a man, she could tell that much now, which was not really a surprise, as she hadn’t heard of any women living with the Merry Men. However, this man did not have the appearance of a forest-dwelling thief. In fact, his heavy boots, which had given him away in the first place would certainly be a hinderance to thieving. He looked much more like a man who wanted others to be aware of his presence. As he drew ever nearer, she was able to make out more details of his face- and what a face it was. She drew in a sharp breath as she catalogued the brilliant blue eyes, striking against black hair and dark scruff. Mentally, she gave herself a little shake and continued her inspection, sweeping her eyes downward in search of weapons. That’s when she noticed the hook in place of his left hand.

Once again, she drew a sharp breath, though this time for an entirely different reason. The hand she had placed on Roland’s shoulder gripped tighter, as if that would keep the boy safe. She, like everyone else involved in the criminal goings-on of the Enchanted Forest, had heard plenty of stories about the fearsome Captain Hook. The tales told of his ruthlessness in battle and his determination to take what he pleased, damning whatever and whoever stood in his way. While it was entirely possible, she thought, that he could be seeking out the Merry Men to do dealings with the band of thieves, he was not the sort of person she would allow near a child left in her care. As such, it came as quite a shock to her when the boy pulled himself out of her grasp and burst from their hiding spot.

“Uncle Killian!” Roland yelled, as he flung his arms around the pirate’s legs, only furthering Emma’s confusion. She was routed to the spot, still crouching behind the tree, barely registering the slightly uncomfortable smile that Captain Hook was sending towards the boy, while awkwardly patting him on the head.

“Aye, lad. Now why don’t you tell your companion to come out from behind that tree and greet me properly?” Emma swallowed hard as she saw those blue eyes sweep in her direction, but stayed where she was until Roland called out for her.

“Emma! You can come out.” She saw Hook’s eyebrow raise as she stood to her full height, brushing twigs and dirt off of her skirt as she did so.

“You’re not Granny.” He said with confusion clear in his voice. Ha, she thought, at least I’m not the only one thrown by this weird situation.

She chuckled, “Yeah, well she asked if I could bring the kid back to camp tonight so she could get some work done.”

He tilted his head, squinting slightly at her. “Forgive me for being suspicious, but the old woman doesn’t make a habit of trusting strangers. And,” he swept his eyes down the length of her, “I think I would recall seeing you around her before.” Emma blushed under his gaze, telling herself it was because he was calling her bluff. He quickly tried to think of a plausible excuse, one that wouldn’t give away her full story. As it turned out, she didn’t need one.

Roland spoke up, pulling on Hook’s cuff, “I’m taking her to see Papa so he can help her!”

“Help her with what exactly?” He asked, never taking his eyes from Emma. She struggled not to shift uncomfortably under his inquisitive, but she forced herself to return the stare.

Sticking her chin out defiantly, she crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s between me and Robin Hood.”

“No need to get so defensive, love. I was merely wondering what drew such a lovely lass to the most notorious criminals around. It could be quite dangerous.” He was leering at her again, and this time all she felt was irritation.

“I’m not your love and I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He drawled, popping the last ‘t’. She was starting to think she should just punch his stupid handsome face to make him stop looking her up and down. “At least allow me to escort you both to the camp. It isn’t far from here.”

“I told you, I don’t need your help.”

“Aye, that may be so. But as I was heading there anyways, I thought I would be a gentlemen and offer.”

She actually snorted at that, raising an eyebrow, which he mirrored. “Well, then, lead the way, Captain Hook.”

He broke into a wide grin as he began walking, and she felt her stomach lurch. She shoved down the thought of how good it looked on him, following behind with Roland.

“Ahhh, so you’ve heard of me.” He sounded downright smug, even she couldn’t see his face anymore, and she immediately wanted to kick herself for feeding the man’s ego. He clearly didn’t need any help with that. “Around here, I tend to go by Killian, though- Killian Jones.” He did a small flourish with his hand while half turning back towards her, a sort of mock bow, without breaking stride. “And you’re Emma, I gather…”

She was surprised for a moment, until she remembered Roland calling out for her a few moments earlier. Even though he wouldn’t see it, she nodded, “Yup.”

“....and is there a second name to that?”

“Yup.”

“Any chance you’ll share it with me, love?” Emma grinned at the frustration she could hear in his voice. She knew she was being childish, but she didn’t really want to share personal details with an infamous pirate captain. It just didn’t seem like a good idea. Fortunately, her hesitance was masked by their arrival at the Merry Men’s campsite. Wow, we were really close, she thought, mentally cursing that she and Roland hadn’t reached it before Hook had come upon them.

“Papa!” Roland exclaimed, bolting from her side and throwing himself into the arms of a man standing by the central fire. He was slightly older than she had expected, and she silently thanked the child’s propensity for loudly identifying whomever he was about to hug. It was actually pretty helpful.

Emma walked closer to the fire, feeling Hook following just behind her. “Robin Hood?”

The man looked up from affectionately ruffling his son’s hair. He had the same kind eyes, and wore a wide grin which seemed entirely natural on his face. Emma liked him instantly, even felt herself wanting to trust him a little bit, which was definitely unusual for her. He offered his hand for her to shake as he straightened up, and she took it without hesitation, feeling a genuine smile play across her lips.

“That I am. And, if I may ask, who are you?”

“Emma Swan.”

She heard Hook muttering under his breath, “Oh, you’ll give him your full name.” She chose to ignore the comment and carried on.

“Roland here told me you might be able to help me with something. She shot another sweet smile at the boy.

“He did, did he?” Robin asked, “Well, I’ll certainly see what I can do. Care to step into my office?” Hook was scoffing now, as Robin gestured to one of the larger tents in the clearing. While it could easily fit four people inside, it still could not really be considered large. Once she stepped inside, she found that while it was largely spartan, it was comfortable enough. Blankets rolls and cushions lined the edges and a low, folding table sat in the center, with enough room around it to pass by. It was all illuminated by soft candlelight, giving an overall warm and calm feeling to the space. Emma was surprised when Hook followed her through the tent’s entrance, but she supposed he and Robin must be fairly close, considering Roland’s affectionate title for him. She still found that strange.

“So, what exactly is it you need help with?” Robin cut straight to the heart of the matter as Emma situated herself on one of the cushions. Hook was giving her a smug look, his eyebrows raised as if to mock her for thinking he wouldn’t find out what it was she wanted.

“Umm,” her hand unconsciously floated towards her necklace as she wondered how to begin- and whether she could get the answers she wanted without revealing too much about herself. “I’ve heard that you’re the person to go to if I want to know the origins of something.”

Robin nodded, “Well, it does help to know where things come from when you’re trying to figure out their value. A rather useful skill for a thief. It does depend on the item in question, though.” He let his sentence hang, clearly waiting on her. Steeling her resolve, Emma reached behind her neck and unclasped the chain.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

Killian watched as the Swan woman removed her necklace and placed it on the table for inspection. From his angle, he couldn’t quite make out what the small pendant hanging from it was, but his confusion was cleared up only a moment later by Robin.

“A swan? Very fitting.”

Killian had to agree, it was perfect, although his thoughts were tending in a slightly different direction. From the moment her brilliant blonde head had appeared from behind that tree, his thoughts had been on the lost princess and just how much this woman resembled her. There were few who could match the princess’ golden locks and jade eyes- he would know, he had spent the last week searching for a woman who could play that part. From the moment he had laid eyes on her, he had begun formulating a plan. If he could only get what she was looking for to align with his con, he and Robin wouldn’t have to split the money with a third party. He didn’t think it would be all that difficult, he had recognized the look in her eyes immediately- the look of an orphan. And what little orphan girl didn’t dream of being the lost princess? All he had to do was convince her. Well that, and somehow convey this new plan to Robin so that he didn’t mess it up before it even started.

“Yeah, well...can you tell me where it’s from or not?” Swan had been sitting, rather impatiently if her fidgeting was anything to go by, in silence while Robin inspected the pendant.

Killian interrupted before his friend was able to do more than open his mouth in reply, “It certainly is beautiful, a piece fit for royalty.” He tried to subtly emphasize the last word to catch Robin’s attention, without drawing the suspicion of the already-wary Swan. As it was, she looked over at him, bemused, certainly wondering why he was even in the tent.

“Indeed.” Robin didn’t even bother to lift his gaze from his examination, turning the pendant to study every angle. “It is a remarkable piece of craftsmanship. Where did you acquire it, if you don’t mind me asking?” Now he looked up, pinning Swan with his stare, although there was nothing unkind within it. Killian watched as she reddened under the inspection, thinking with some amusement that it seemed to be a habit of her’s. Robin seemed to catch on to her embarrassment as well, and apparently felt a sense of compassion that Killian seemed to lack.

“We’re all thieves here,” Robin gestured around the room, but surely meant the camp in general, “You’ve no need to worry about judgement. I’m just wondering where this came from.”

“Oh no, it’s not that. It’s just…” Killian wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the woman’s blush deepened further, “I’ve had that necklace since before I can remember.”

The puzzle began to piece itself together in Killian’s mind. This orphan was looking for the origin of what might be the only thing she owned that could belong to her family. She was looking for her home. It was almost too perfect.

“So, you’ve had it since you were an infant?” Robin asked, seeming truly perplexed by her admission.

She shook her head, a couple of blonde tendrils falling loose of her ponytail as she did so. “I actually can’t remember anything before I was eight. I was left unconscious on the steps of an orphanage. I don’t know who left me there. The only thing I remembered when I woke up was my name. It’s strange, I know…” She trailed off, shaking her head more violently as if she could shake some of those lost memories back into place.

Killian saw Robin looking over at him at this confession, it seemed he was finally seeing the parallels as well. She was just what they were looking for.

“And how old are you, Swan?” She whipped her head up to meet Killian’s eyes when he spoke. Confusion, and perhaps mild irritation, drew her brows together.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” There she went, being defensive again. Killian honestly didn’t understand what made her trust Robin any more than himself. He had been nothing but a charming gentleman since their encounter in the woods.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation, “Humor me. It’s not a difficult question.”

She squinted at him, seemingly retaining doubts about his motives, before giving a small shrug, as if deciding that it couldn’t hurt anything. “Twenty-two. Why?”

Perfect.

“Well, Swan, it’s just that your tale fits quite nicely with that of the lost princess.” He could tell the moment it clicked into place for her. Those green eyes went wide with astonishment, and her jaw dropped open almost comically as she tried and failed to form words. Speechless, Killian mused, I suppose there is a first time for everything. She shook her head, blinking rapidly, and trying to regain at least some composure.

“You can’t possibly be suggesting that I-” She didn’t seem capable of finishing the thought, choosing to scoff instead.

“The name is right, as is you age, and your general appearance.” He pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean I’m royalty.”

“Haven’t you ever given it the least little bit of thought?” She seemed to deflate a bit at that, the lost look growing more prominent in her eyes. He almost wished he hadn’t pushed.

“I guess,” she shrugged, “but what little girl doesn’t dream of being a princess at some point in her life? I gave up on those dream a long time ago.” Killian couldn’t think of the appropriate response to such a confession, searching for the right words.

“Somewhere, some woman is the lost princess,” Robin intervened, soft empathy lacing his tone. Swan looked across to him with an almost hopeful gleam in her eyes, one that made her beauty even more striking.

“Do you really think I-?” She still could not say the words, but there seemed to be a new curiosity and eagerness in her.

“Well,” Robin continued, reaching his hand across the table and motioning for her to do the same, “I can tell you for certain that this is an extremely valuable necklace made of Arendelle silver. Whoever gave it to you is probably there, as is her family- ever since the Dark One’s coup.” He pressed the pendant back into her palm, where she just stared at it.

Killian could have kissed Robin- everything was going according to plan. She just needed one more push, “Fortunately for you, Robin and I are planning a trip to Arendelle. We’d be happy to take you along, if you’d like.”

“Really?” She looked skeptical again, why did she always look skeptical whenever he said anything? “What’s in it for you?”

“The chance of reuniting a family is its own reward.” Robin replied, in a tone that Killian had to admit was much more convincing than if he had attempted to say the same. “We have actually been looking for the princess for a while, for just that purpose.”

“So will you be joining us?” Killian added, not wanting to give her time to consider exactly why they had been looking for the princess.

Emma’s eyes darted between them, disbelief etched across her features. “You’re both insane,” she muttered to herself. She stood up abruptly and stalked out of the tent without a glance at either of them.

“Well that went well,” Robin remarked, staring at the place she had just vacated.

“She’ll come around.” Killian was being flippant, he knew, but he would bet his remaining hand that the woman’s curiosity would get the better of her. “She just needs a bit of time.”

Robin looked at him incredulously, “Fine, but I had better go out there and make she doesn’t get lost in the forest before she changes her mind.”

“Aye, she’s certainly stubborn enough to head into the forest on her own.”

Killian listened intently to the goings-on outside the tent once Robin followed the blonde out. He could make out his friend calling out to her and that they were exchanging words, just soft enough that he couldn’t understand exactly what was being said.

He could, however, hear her slightly raised tone as she inquired whether he really had to accompany them. His grin was immediate as he stood and strode out of the tent.

“We leave in the morning, Princess Emma of Misthaven.” He put all the bravado he could muster into that the sentence as he bowed to kiss her hand with a wink.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

Rumplestiltskin turned from his scrying sphere filled with disbelief and disgust. He had long known the ‘secret’ location of Robin Hood’s camp. For many years he had allowed the thief’s activities to go unpunished, content to keep an eye on him occasionally; he had his reasons for preferring the man stay in the Enchanted Forest, rather than joining the outcast Royals in Arendelle. When Rumplestiltskin noticed that the pirate had arrived at the camp, however, he had heightened his surveillance. Hook may have already been punished once for stealing from him, but that did not mean he was forgiven. Rumplestiltskin as capable as the Captain himself at maintaining a grudge, and if he was given another opportunity to hurt the man, he would not hesitate.

The pirate was not the reason he was currently brewing with anger and hatred, however. It was that Swan woman. While the Captain may not have believed his own words when he had called her Princess, Rumplestiltskin had known the truth as soon as he had seen the swan pendant. He still remembered that same pendant pressing against his arm as he had encircled her throat, holding her as shield to ward off her insufferable family. He remembered it glinting in the moonlight as the ice had cracked beneath his feet. And he remembered the burn of the freezing water filling his lungs. If he had been a mortal man, he would have been dead. As it was, he was unconscious, but alive, until the Spring arrived to thaw his icy prison. When he had finally been free, the Royals were long gone, with no whisper of where they had gone. It wasn’t until years later that the truth finally emerged: they were still alive, living under the protection of the powerful sorceress-Queen of Arendelle and her aunt. At that time, he had been happy enough knowing that they still suffered- their little princess missing or dead.

Now, he knew she alive, and intent on finding her parent- even if she did not remember them yet. He had already been inclined against the girl- what with her Charming parents and step-mother reconciling and ruining his long-laid plans for a reunion with his son. After she had trapped him for so long, his hatred had become a much more personal thing. It was time the girl learned the price of crossing the Dark One. If the pirate somehow became caught in the crossfire, all the better.


	3. Chapter 2

The walk from the Merry Men’s camp back to the village the following morning was largely a silent affair. Whether that was a product of the early hour or of each of them being wrapped up in personal contemplation, it was hard to say. At least with young Roland, the answer was a clear- he had fallen back asleep shortly after being lifted into his father’s arms. Their plans for the day had been laid out the night before anyway, so there was no real need for further discussion. Killian had thought Swan would have wanted more input on things, but she had readily, if not enthusiastically, agreed to their plan. They were to ride north for a few days until they reached the sea, and then cross to reach the kingdom of Arendelle. Her one request had been that they travel by carriage, rather than on horseback. Although the request had been unusual for one so clearly unaccustomed to luxury, he had refrained from mocking her at the time, warned off by the haunted look lurking just behind her eyes. He may enjoy getting a rise out of her, but he would not push her so far that she would abandon their quest.

When they arrived at the village, Robin brought the group to a halt, handing Roland to Emma. Although she readily pulled the sleeping boy into her arms, she raised her eyebrow at his father in question.

Robin chuckled. “Take him with you to retrieve your things from Granny’s. The old woman is more likely to be generous with food supplies if she thinks most of it will go to him.”

Emma shook her head with a small grin, “Yeah, okay. You wouldn’t by any chance being going off to do something illegal, would you?”

Killian smirked at the insinuation- she wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, it might be best that she remain ignorant about the details. “We actually want to make sure that you don’t run away when we let you out of our sight. Roland will be keeping an eye on you.” While it was a slightly less effective threat when the boy was still happily off in dreamland, head lolled against her shoulder, the point remained. Killian could see the moment when the implications of his words sunk in, as her jaw tightened in defiance. He couldn’t help his smirk growing just a bit more, there was no chance she would run off now that he’d challenged her on it. Whatever doubts she may have had, she would push them aside just to prove him wrong.

She turned on her heel, heading towards the inn with a pointed, “See you in a few.”

Killian shook his head, and took off in the opposite direction with Robin at his side. “Our princess certainly is an interesting one.”

“She was always full of fire and life, even as a child. It seems not much has changed.” Robin replied.

“So, you believe Swan is actually the lost princess?” Killian was slightly incredulous, he had only called her princess jokingly. He had believed that he and Robin were of the same mind about this, but it seemed he was mistaken.

“I believe there is a good chance she might be. Don’t you?” Robin sounded just as surprised by Killian’s reaction as Killian had been at his.

“I think it is very likely that the Crocodile killed the real princess fourteen years ago and has let rumours spread to drag out the Royal family’s suffering.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his tone. If anyone understood how cruel the Dark One could be, it was Killian. The Royals had done nothing to deserve any of that, they were good, kind people.

“You would deceive the Royals and Emma to get what you want, then?” Robin was clearly disgusted and disappointed in Killian. It wasn’t really surprising, Killian rarely did things that his former mentor would be proud of; even so, the sentiment hurt.

“I see a family looking for a daughter, and an orphan looking for a family. Does it really matter whether they are truly related? It seems to me that it would be a mercy to let them live a lie if it makes them happy.” To Killian’s irritation, Robin merely responded with a noncommittal hum. It appeared that they would just have to agree to disagree on the matter. Killian was content to let Robin have his optimistic illusions as well, if it meant the man would stop wavering about the ethics of their con.

After a few moments of companionable silence, the pair arrived at the end of a drive leading to a large manor house, set a short ways away from the village.

“I take it this is where we will be procuring our lady’s carriage?” Killian asked, taking the first steps down the drive.

“It is indeed, though we won’t be going up to the front door and asking for it.” Robin cut off the main path, walking with a sure, quiet steps through the woods, clearly expecting Killian to follow him.

“Friends with the owner then, are you?” Killian teased.

“Well, you could say the Sheriff won’t be surprised when I borrow a few of his things.” Robin replied lightly with a mischievous smile. It was good to see him like this, he had become much more serious since Marian’s passing. It was rare to see the playful bandit side of him these days. It reminded Killian of when he was just a teen, trying to survive under the new pressures of the Dark One’s regime, when Robin had found him and trained him in the art of thievery. He was never quite as stealthy or subtle as Robin and he’d ultimately left the Merry Men to follow the call of the sea and piracy, but the bond between the two men remained across the years. It was nice to be breaking the law together once more.

“How exactly do you plan on hitching together a carriage and getting it out of here quietly, mate? We can’t exactly spirit it away into the forest.”

Robin shook his head, a glimmer still in his eyes. “Just because you’re incapable of doing anything without drawing attention to yourself, doesn’t mean we all are. Follow my lead- quietly- and we’ll get out of here without a problem.”

Killian mimed sealing his lips, and gestured for Robin to proceed. To his surprise, working quickly and with minimal noise, they were able to get four horses out of the stables and hitched to a carriage without encountering any interference. It wasn’t until Robin was climbing up to the coachman’s bench that they heard a shout of alarm. Killian swore, ripped open the door, and threw himself inside the carriage just as Robin coaxed the horses into motion. The vehicle quickly picked up speed as Robin navigated them back towards the drive. Killian watched out the small window as the household staff began pouring out the doors, some racing after the carriage on foot, while others ran to the stables to mount a pursuit. He wasn’t exactly an expert on the topic, but Killian understood that horses with a single rider tended to be much quicker than a heavy carriage and he started to doubt Robin’s plan.

He poked his head out the window and shouted his doubts over the clatter of hooves, “I think we’ll have a few riders following us in a moment.”

“That’s not very likely!” Robin shouted back, never taking his eyes off the road, “I loosed all the other horses and cut a few saddle straps while you were getting the carriage ready.” Killian grinned- this man really was a master thief. Some of the men may still be able to chase after them, but it would certainly take them longer to do so. As long as Robin kept up his quick pace, they would have enough of a head start to pick up Emma and Roland and get away from town before the men could catch up. If they were especially lucky, the men might just give up when they realized how long it would take.

Killian let out a loud laugh, it really was like the old days.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************

Emma was growing impatient standing in front of the inn, waiting for the men to return. It had only taken her moments to collect her belongings from the upstairs room of the inn, and while it had taken slightly longer to convince Granny to donate some food supplies for the journey, it had all been resolved within twenty minutes. Once everything was settled, she and Roland had taken up their post outside the inn’s door, where they had been standing for the last twenty-five minutes. The boy had woken up not long after they’d entered the inn, and he had been a bundle of energy ever since. In fact, his constant conversation was the only thing that kept her from thinking too deeply about just what the two criminals were getting up to in order to secure their transportation.

She was under no illusions about who her travelling companions were. In fact, she was pretty damn certain that this whole ‘lost princess’ business was a con. She could tell that Hook definitely did not believe she was the princess, though Robin seemed a little more unsure. Emma knew that is was only a matter of time before he too realized the truth; she was not princess material. However, he had been honest when he had told her that her necklace was from Arendelle and they were currently her best means of getting there. So, she was willing to go along with their plans- at least for now. She was not about to see it all the way through, though. She didn’t want to get the Royal family involved when she knew that there was no way she could be their daughter. Giving someone false hope was the worse thing you could do to a person. Instead, she planned to sneak off on her own search once they landed in Arendelle. Until then, she was stuck with this unusual little group. With Roland and Robin around, she might be able to enjoy herself a bit, although she could already tell that Hook would be insufferable the entire time.

Her suspicions were proven correct when a carriage, driven by Robin, came into view at the end of the road, kicking up dust as it sped towards them. The door was opened before the carriage had even reached them and the vehicle was more slowed than stopped in front of them. Emma did not need Hook’s, “Quick, get inside,” to hastily lift Roland and their bags into the cab, heaving herself in after them. She was immediately jerked back into the seat as Robin picked up the pace again. Taking a moment to smooth herself out, she caught Hook’s eye with a raised eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t have procured this carriage illegally, now would you, maestro?”

“Not at all, Your Grace. We just want to make sure we get you back to your family as quickly as possible.” She could see the lies clearly written on his face. He was obviously aware that she understood that the carriage had been stolen and was just choosing to be difficult about it. However, the second part was a lie too- less apparent, but still there. She was really looking forward to ruining his perfect little con. For the moment, she settled for sending him a sarcastic smile.  
Emma turned her attention towards Roland, who was kneeling on the seat next to her, peeking his head just outside the window and watching in wonder as the forest flew by. She had the opposite reaction to the sight. While she hadn’t quite noticed it before, the jerky movement of the carriage and their sheer speed was now brought to the forefront of her mind. Worst of all was the thought that they were relying on horses- the very idea made her ball her fists tightly in the material of her skirt. It was not quite as bad as if she were asked to ride one of the beasts, but she still hated the idea of being dependent on them. She had never actually had a bad experience with horses that she could remember, but seeing them still raised a primal fear. Emma could only assume that something had happened in those years before she lost her memories, and not knowing what it was made her distrust the creatures even more. Apparently, her inner turmoil was less hidden than she had hoped as she heard Killian chuckle.

“Not very fond of horses, are you, Swan?”

She scoffed, and turned away from his amused stare, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled again, “You’re something of an open book, love.”

This time, she met his gaze and held it as she forced her muscles to relax. Just to prove how very comfortable she was, she stretched her legs out and rested her feet on the empty seat next to him. Surprisingly, he looked appalled by the action.

“Shoes on the furniture? Not very good form a princess.” She was sure she was staring at him now, but she couldn’t contain her disbelief. He was giving her a lecture on etiquette. She would show him. With a slow, sly grin, she maintained eye contact and reached down to unlace her boots. She toed out of them, letting them drop to the floor, and returned her stockinged feet to their previous spot on the seat.

“Bad form, indeed, Swan.” The look of reproach on his face was almost comical. She would think he was taking the matter far too seriously, but she caught a hint of mirth in his eyes.

“I never thought I would be scolded for poor manners by a pirate. Let alone, the dreaded Captain Hook. What’s the matter, not very fond of feet?” With that, she let one foot lean just enough to nudge his elbow, which he quickly drew away. The amusement was gone from his eyes now, and she counted it as a win.

“I just expected a princess to act with a little more decorum.” She widened his eyes at his more serious reprimand.

“Hook, do you really think I’m the lost princess?” Emma asked, laying the hopeful young damsel act on thick. She was even batting her eyes slightly as she placed her feet back on the floor, sat up straight, and leaned across the space between them. She had to fight down a smirk when he blinked, nonplussed by the sudden change in the conversation.

“You know I do.” He lied, though to his credit, he did make an attempt at sincerity. She grinned.

“Then stop bossing me around.”

His eyes narrowed when he realized what she had done. He fell back into his seat with a pout, and turned his face away to stare out the window. Just then, a deep, rich laugh filtered in from outside and Emma realized that Robin must have been listening to the whole exchange. The ridiculousness of it all brought an echoing laugh to her own lips- and that was apparently too much for Hook.

“That’s enough!” He shouted, loud enough that Robin was sure to hear it clearly, “Robin, mate, let me drive the carriage for a while. You can attempt to deal with Her Highness.” Emma managed to subdue her laughter as the carriage slowed to a halt and Hook climbed out. It was renewed immediately, however, when she saw the grin on Robin’s face.

The carriage ride was much more pleasant from that point on. While she would never admit it to him, Hook was a much smoother driver than Robin had been, even while maintaining a decent speed. Shortly after the exchange of places, Emma noticed that Robin was watching the forest pass by with a wistful longing. She felt a brief pang of guilt. Robin, at least, seemed to harbour some hope- however unlikely- that she actually was the lost princess. He was leaving behind the Enchanted Forest, his home, and his men in an attempt to reunite the princess with her family. While she felt no qualms about abandoning Hook once they reached Arendelle, she already hated the thought of using Robin and his son as a means to her ends. She decided that talking would be the best distraction from her newfound guilt.

“Do you think you’ll miss it?” She had asked the first question on her mind and immediately berated herself for bringing up the topic that was the very source of her guilt. Great distraction, Emma, she thought. But, she had started herself down that path, the least she could do now was listen to his answer, especially since he seemed to be taking to the time to think it over.

“While the Enchanted Forest has been my home for most of my life, I’m not sure there is anything left here for me anymore. And I would rather my son grow up outside the purview of the Dark One.” Emma could certainly empathise with the sentiment. Part of the reason she had been so willing to part with her own baby boy was the hope that he would live a life outside the tyrant’s rule.

“I’m not afraid of him!” Roland piped up, and both adults laughed.

Robin leaned forward to ruffle his hand through his son’s curls fondly, “I know you aren’t, Roland. You have the heart of a lion.” The boy positively beamed at that, puffing his small chest up with pride. “Aren’t you excited to be going on an adventure though? I thought you were telling me how much you wanted to go on Uncle Killian’s ship?”

“Yeah!” Roland was bouncing up and down again. “Do you think Uncle Killian will teach me how to sail?” Emma still found it odd that the child spoke of Hook with such fondness, especially since the pirate captain had seemed notably uncomfortable in most of his interactions with the boy.

“We’ll see. He’ll be very busy captaining the ship and making sure we get to Arendelle safely. He might not have time to teach you.” Roland’s expression turned very serious as he nodded in agreement. It was clear that he completely believed that captaining a ship was important work. Emma, however, was more inclined to believe that Robin understood his friend’s temperament and was unwilling to promise anything which might put him in an uncomfortable situation. She felt her respect for Robin grow even further, alongside the niggling question of just how the two men, who seemed to have such disparate morals, had become such close friends.

Robin leaned forward once more, this time dropping his voice to a conspiratorial stage-whisper, “Have I told you the story about the Queen of Arendelle?” Roland widened his eyes and shook his head.

“Well, she has a very special type of magic. She can make ice and snow appear out of the air, even in the summer!” Roland gasped, and Emma bit back a laugh at how quickly he had become enthralled in his father’s tale. She listened in herself as Robin began telling the story of two young princesses. Roland had asked if that meant they were like Emma, and she could not hide her blush, but Robin had simply agreed before continuing on with the adventure. While she was not sure how much was true and how much Robin was embellishing for Roland’s sake, she caught a few interesting points. The Arendelle Royal sisters were older than her by several years, and were also orphans, though they had been raised by their parents for most of their life. The family had lived in relative isolation since the girls were young, and it was only after the Queen’s coronation that the kingdom discovered that it was due to her icy powers. There was some attempt made to overthrow her at that point, but she reclaimed her throne and now ruled, beloved by her people. Their aunt, Ingrid, who had been lost for decades, had returned a short time after peace settled over the land and had since become her niece’s main advisor. It was widely believed that Ingrid shared the Queen’s powers, and had actually helped her learn to control them. Emma silently acknowledged that the combined powers of the ice sorceresses sounded like a formidable protection for the Enchanted Forest’s Royal family. It was little wonder that they had chosen that kingdom as their refuge.

Somewhere in the course of the narrative, Roland had nodded off- his curly head resting in Emma’s lap, where she had taken to absentmindedly stroking it. She was content to sit in silence with Robin for a short time, until she was struck by a thought.

“Where is Roland’s mother?” She asked quietly, knowing that she was probably crossing some line. Robin didn’t seem to mind though.

He gave the sleeping boy a small, sad smile, “She passed just over a year ago. I’m not sure he even remembers her.” While the words were spoken without any hesitation, Emma could plainly see the pain in Robin’s eyes. She wasn’t the best at comforting others, but she had a strong compulsion to at least try in this instance.

“What was her name?”

“Marian.” His smile was a little more genuine this time, reflected a little more brightly in his eyes.

“What was she like?”

“She was amazing, strong, beautiful...I met her after everything had fallen apart in the kingdom, and it felt like she brought the light back into my life after years without. Our time together was far too short.”

Emma reached out, careful not to jostle Roland, and laid her hand on Robin’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, “I still can’t believe she gave everything up to live in the forest with a band of thieves. I wish I could have given her more. I was so wrapped up in trying to do what I could to undermine the Dark One and help the people of the Enchanted Forest. I should have thought more of the safety of my own family…” He trailed off with a dark look on his face, shaking his head once again. “I won’t make the same mistake now. I’m going to make sure Roland grows up somewhere safe, and his father will come by his money honestly, not through crime.”

Emma’s heart ached for the man across from her, he had been through so much and yet he was still willing to help others. She suddenly found herself wishing that she’d had a father like him growing up. Even without his mother, Roland was sure to grow up knowing that he was deeply loved. It was something she wished she had been able to make sure that her own son knew. No matter where he was now, even if Emma could not be in his life, she loved him with all her heart. When she looked down at Roland once more, she felt her guilt from earlier alleviate marginally. Even if she never found her family in Arendelle, she was helping get him to Arendelle, where he could grow up without fear. That, she told herself, would be more than enough for her. With that thought, she found herself drifting off into a dreamless slumber.

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The hushed voices from the cab had stopped several hours earlier, and Killian had slowed the horses pace around the same time, both to save the horses and to allow the occupants to sleep without disturbance. He hadn’t been able to make out a great deal of the conversation, just small snatches of it which caught the right draft of wind to reach his ear. From the portion he had heard, he was surprised to find that Swan was being almost compassionate. Why she appeared to be unable to act like a reasonable human being in his presence, he did not know, but it was somewhat comforting to learn that she was capable of it. Robin, he knew, tended to avoid conversations of Marian- the wound was still a painful one. Killian was grateful that Swan had listened, handling the situation with something almost like the grace of her namesake, which she so determinedly did not employ under other circumstances. Robin needed an understanding ear to ease his hurt, and Killian had to admit that he was not always the best option for such things.

He let the time pass him by in silent contemplation, finally pulling the carriage to a halt in the early afternoon. Reluctantly, he wakened the drowsy passengers with a recommendation to stretch their legs while he fed and watered the horses. Emma and Robin tumbled unceremoniously out, attempting to shake the sleep from their heads and return feeling into their legs at the same time. In contrast, Roland leapt from the carriage as if he had been awake the entire time, just waiting for a moment of freedom. Killian felt a tiny smile play at the corner of his lips. He really did love the child, even if he had trouble showing it. However, he was starkly aware of the fact that a pirate did not make a good role model for a young boy. Even though Robin was a thief, he at least lived by a code; Killian had long ago abandoned his own sense of honor. He was stowing away such ruminations for later when he heard Robin’s footsteps approach.

“Mate, why don’t you rest in the carriage for a bit? I’ll drive us on for a while, until I’m sure the Sheriff’s men won’t find us. Then we can make camp for the night.”

Killian began to shake his head in protest, but Robin was already holding up a hand to stop him.

“You need to sleep. Besides, I’m sure Roland would love the chance to help me drive.” Robin, the sneaky bastard, raised his voice just loud enough to make sure the boy heard the last part.

“Oh, yeah!” Roland was already running back to the carriage and climbing on to the coachman’s bench. Killian let a sigh, resigned to his fate.

“Are you sure you want to leave Swan and me alone together, mate? One of is likely to snap.”

Robin had the nerve to chuckle, and clapped his hand on Killian’s shoulder with a grin. “I’m sure you are both capable of overcoming your unspoken attraction in order to behave like adults for a little while.”

“Unspoken attraction!” Killian blustered. His ears tinging red when he realised he had spoken loud enough to catch Swan’s attention. She had her head tilted and was giving him a bemused look that only made the heat in his face grow. His eyes snapped back to Robin’s face with a glare. “I doubt you’ll have to worry about that, mate.”

“If you say so,” Robin chuckled as he pulled himself into the seat beside Roland. “We had best be on our way again.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. He opened the door as Swan approached, ushering her in before him. She, once again, seemed to be entirely surprised that a pirate should have any kind of manners. Or perhaps it was just that, as an orphan, such small courtesies had been all too rare in her life. He let the thought drop; that would lead to something too much like empathy, which would only make deceiving her harder.

“Now you’re being a gentleman?” The disbelief and sarcasm were tangible in her tone, and he couldn’t help smirking. He should have known that she would give him that needed push away when he started to get close to liking her in any way.

“I’m always a gentleman, love.” She rolled her eyes, but, unexpectedly, let the comment go without retort. Either she was lacking a witty comment, which he highly doubted, or she did not feel like engaging in their already-standard repartee. He found he didn’t really mind, Robin had been right about him needing rest. So, he let the silence sit comfortably as he turned his head to watch the scenery roll past, hoping it would lull him into at least a light slumber. After a few moments, however, he found himself fixated on a thought.

“Do you think you’ll miss it?” They were some of the few words he had caught from her earlier conversation. Repeating them back to her now, he discovered that he was genuinely curious to learn the answer.

“What?” She blinked. It was clear that she had been lost in some train of thought, and had not quite understood what he was asking.

He gestured with his hook in the general direction of the outdoors. “The Enchanted Forest? Home?”

“Oh,” she seemed taken aback by the inquiry, as if she was not used to anyone wanting to know her thoughts. He felt that was sentiment he could readily empathize with. “I suppose I don’t really consider the Enchanted Forest to be my home, not really anyway.”

“Then where is your home, Swan?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. That’s kind of what this whole journey is about- isn’t it? Finding the place I belong?”

“And you think you’ll find that in Arendelle, with your family.”

It hadn’t really been a question, but she shrugged and responded anyways. “Maybe? Someone once told me that home is a place that when you leave, you just miss it. So I guess I’ll keep looking until I find that.” Killian nodded and let the conversation lapse into silence once more. It felt almost unsettling to have gone so long without exchanging any pointed words. Even more disturbing, he found he fancied her when she wasn’t yelling at him. In the few small moments of vulnerability she had displayed, he could see far enough past her walls to recognize how similar they were. Like him, she had been adrift without an anchor for far longer than any person should be. Somehow, though, she maintained a small bit of hope, even if she did not entirely acknowledge it. He was not sure how she had managed to keep that hope alight, as he was certain his own had been snuffed out years ago. It was something he admired, even if he believed it to be naive. Though this was all a con, he found himself wanting the Royal family to accept her as their own, not just for the reward, but so that she could finally have a home. It would be nice for at least one of them to get their happy ending. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she closed her eyes and relaxed back into the seat cushions once more. In that quiet moment, he found that he could readily admit to himself that she was a very attractive woman. Something about seeing her looking so open and soft in her slumber spread a gentle warmth in him that he refused to examine too closely. Instead, he allowed the feeling to envelop him and it led him into a peaceful sleep.

************************************************************************************************************************************************

Emma was not sure when Roland had re-joined them in the carriage, but his father must have decided it was getting too late for him to be up, if the darkness outside the windows was anything to go by. However, she was acutely aware of his presence when he threw himself on top of her in an attempt to wake her.

“Princess Emma! Uncle Killian! Look! You have to look!” At least it seems she wasn’t the only one to suffer from Roland’s less-than-gentle means of rousing. Hook looked entirely bewildered as he sat bolt upright.

“What is it, lad?” Emma noticed that he had his hook poised for action, while his eyes seemed to search the cramped cab for a threat. She turned to look at Roland again, searching for answers herself.

“Look outside the window!” Great, she thought. So far, she had managed to push down her discomfort with their mode of travel, even allowing herself to relax at times. That only worked, however, when she avoided looking out the window and realizing exactly how much their movement was dependent on the team of horses at the front. Still, she tried to humor the boy, her shoulder nearly bumping against Hook’s as they leaned towards the window at the same time. Everything was obscured by the darkness, even the passing trees were no more than particularly dark shadows.

“You see anything?” She asked Hook under her breath. She watched as her stuck his head partially out the window to look ahead of and behind the carriage.

“Not a thing. Lad, are you sure you saw something out there?”

“I did! It was glowing, and it had wings!”

Emma barely held her laughter in check. It seemed that Roland’s imagination was a little too overactive. “Yea, kid? That sounds pretty scary. You want to tell us more about it?” If the boy’d had some sort of nightmare, she supposed talking about it might help.

“I wasn’t scared!” He protested. “I saw it fly by, and it made a face at me, and then it flew up to the horses.” Emma raised her eyebrow to share a look of incredulity when the carriage lurched and began to pick up speed. The relatively smooth ride from a moment before was replaced by erratic turns and harsh bumps that flung them about the cab. Emma slammed her eyes shut, forcing down her sudden well of anxiety.

“Are you sure you didn’t see anything following us?”

Hook shook his head. “Nothing.” He continued in a louder voice, his head once more half out the open window, “Robin!”

There was no answer, just the continued clash of hooves. This time Hook’s entire upper body hung out the window- which was quite a feat considering how small it was- as he tried to catch a glimpse of what was happening in the front. “Mate?!” Still nothing. He maneuvered back inside, reaching for the sword he had placed under the seat and strapping it around his waist. “I’m going out there.”

“You really think you’ll need that?” Emma asked, nodding her head towards his weapon.

“I’d rather have it with me and not need it, than the opposite.”

“Fair point.” Emma corralled Roland into the far corner as Hook opened the door and began to pull himself onto the top of the carriage. She heard the clatter when he dropped his weight onto the roof, and could follow the noise as he moved the few feet towards the front of the vehicle.

“He’s unconscious!” With soft instuctions to Roland to stay put, she carefully opened the door and leaned out part way. From her new position she could hear Hook muttering Robin’s name, and then a few incoherent mumbles as the man apparently came to. A moment later, she saw Hook turn back towards her, he didn’t seem at all surprised to find her watching. “Help me get him back inside.” She nodded mutely. It was a trial to get the still-uncoordinated man into the cab from the front bench while the whole carriage jostled continuously, and while she herself was trying desperately to keep from being thrown out the open door. Somehow, they managed it in only a matter of moments, and Emma saw to it that Robin was settled comfortably on one of the seats before heading back out the door. This time, she pulled herself all of the way out and joined Hook on the driver’s bench. He was already holding the reins in his one hand, leaning back against them with his full weight in an attempt to calm the spooked horses. Without thought, Emma grabbed the reins as well, sitting close against Hook and putting her hands just ahead of his own. She added her weight to his and for a moment, it seemed that might be enough. The horses began to slow almost imperceptibly. As soon as that hope had arrived, though, it was lost. The reins, which had seemed robust enough throughout the journey so far, gave with a snap, sending both Emma and Hook backwards.

The air left her lungs as her back collided with the front wall of the cab, but all she could do was stare in horror at the frayed leather still in her hands. She was certain that she’d had nightmares like this as a child, the pounding hooves dredging up some instinctual fear from inside her. For a heartbeat, she could do nothing more than sit there, and gulp ragged breaths. When she felt capable of moving again, she looked up to find that Hook had begun to climb onto the backs of the one of the nearer horses, clearly intent on reaching one of the lead pair. The world seemed to narrow until all she could see was him crawling ungracefully forward, and it seemed to her that he would be thrown off at any moment. Even when he sat astride one of the lead horses, tugging on its harness, she couldn’t relax.

“The bloody things won’t slow. It’s like they’re possessed!” The words caught Emma’s attention, and she watched with growing relief as he made his way back to the driver’s bench. She let out a sigh of relief as he sat down beside her, not stopping to consider why she had been so concerned for his safety in the first place.

“So, what do we do now?” She asked him because, truthfully, she had no idea of how carriages worked, let alone how one could be stopped. Without answering her, Hook pulled his sword free of its sheath and lent forward to hack at the leather straps binding the horses to the carriage poles. Considering how readily the reins had given way, she was surprised when the blow didn’t cut clean through the straps. In fact, it didn’t even seem to scuff them. Hook repeated the motion a few times with the same disappointed results, and Emma felt a strange sensation begin along the back of her neck. It was almost the same feeling that one would get when they knew someone was watching them, it was just...deeper. She would not have been able to describe it if anyone had asked, but she knew that things were not as they appeared, and so she stayed Hook’s arm as he went to swing once more.

“This isn’t going to work,” She caught his eye, willing him to see the truth behind her words.

“What do you suggest we do? We can’t wait for the horses to tire, the carriage could overturn at any moment.” Emma nodded, and looked around as if she could find the answer somewhere in the forest.

“I think we’ll just have to jump.” She wasn’t expecting him to agree right away, it was an insane idea. He surprised her, though, when he nodded and gestured for her to lead the way back to the cab. She climbed back in quickly, eager to get away from the horses. He was close behind her, but the carriage hit a ditch and bounced while he still clung to the side. With only one good hand to grip with, he was left dangling from the door, his feet and the end of his duster dangerously close to being caught in the wheel. Emma leaned back out, tightly grasping his forearm just above the hook’s brace, and hauling on him with all her might. They both tumbled backwards into the cab, with him landing unceremoniously on top of her in the small space between the seats.

“Much appreciated, lass.”

“Don’t mention it,” she lightly pushed him off her and they informed Robin of their plan in a few words. She and Hook would leap from one door, while Robin, holding Roland, would do the same from the other. They grabbed what little luggage they could carry, and counted to three. As they counted, Emma found herself hoping that they all made it through this safely. She would blame herself, she knew, if any of them got injured on this journey. On three, she pushed herself out and away from the cab with Hook by her side, closing her eyes and bracing herself. Instead of the bruising impact she had expected, however, she saw a brief flash of white light behind her eyelids and she felt as if she slowed before hitting the earth. It was if she had fallen off a cot, rather than from a fast-moving carriage. Opening her eyes, she scanned the area for the other members of her party. They were all close by, looking relatively unhurt. Little Roland was already bounding his way over to her and Killian, apparently unfazed by the entire ordeal. She wished she had that sort of resilience.

Instead, she pushed herself off the ground with a groan. Just because the impact hadn’t been as unpleasant as she had expected, didn’t mean that she wasn’t a little sore. She turned to look towards where their mode of transport was beginning to fade from view, still moving at a breakneck pace.

“Now what?” She asked, not at all sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

“Now,” Hook supplied, “We walk.” She groaned again. That was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to hear. “Though I suppose we should make camp for the night first.”


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the 'If I can learn to do it', portion of the story and I did borrow a couple of lines from the song. I definitely don't own Anastasia, no matter how often that song gets stuck in my head. Also, this chapter will be mostly Emma's perspective, with a little bit of Killian's towards the end.

They had only been walking for a couple of hours, but Emma was already bored. Although she had spent a lot of her time walking over the past couple months- from moment she had decided to search for Robin- she had never grown fond of it. Despite her hesitance with horses, she had to admit that riding in the carriage had been a far better mode of travel. At least then, when they had run out of conversation, they could close their eyes for a rest. Walking was just exhausting. While they had all taken some time to sleep overnight, they had risen early in the day to begin their trek and, for the most part, had been too tired to entertain each other. Even Roland was far more subdued today, though he was alternating between walking and riding on his father’s shoulders. Momentarily, she imagined asking Hook to do the same for her, but immediately dismissed the foolish idea. She sighed heavily, running a hand over her face.

“So, are we going to be walking all the way to the port?” She asked him instead.

“Not at all, your Highness.” She felt herself glower at the title. “We’ll walk to the nearest village, then procure more horses, though perhaps not a carriage this time.” She felt herself cringe slightly, she hated the idea of using horses now even more than she had before, but she couldn’t protest too much when she had just been mentally complaining about walking. It was not like they had a whole lot of options. If it came down to it, she would be able to push down her fears for a day or two.

“Alright, so how close is the nearest village?”

“We should arrive by this evening.”

She sighed again. Great, a whole day of walking and she was already beginning to feel her feet throb. She was going to need a distraction. Somehow, Hook seemed to pick up on her train of thought.

“Maybe it would be best if we start teaching you a few things about courtly manners,” he was teasing her, she knew, but she could also tell that it was a genuine offer.

She gave him a flat look, “Are you saying you know how a princess should behave, pirate?”

He chuckled, not taking the bait at all. “No, Swan. I believe Robin is far more suited to the task than I.” She felt her eyebrows raise in shock as she looked over to the thief, walking just a little ways away, and still well within earshot. He turned when he heard his name, and shot her a smile, accompanied by a small bow.

“What can I say, Milady, I am full of surprises.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, surely they were joking. Her disbelief must have been plain on her face, because Robin immediately began explaining further, dropping back to fall into step with her and Hook. “I wasn’t always known as Robin Hood, that is merely the moniker I adopted when I turned to banditry. Before the fall of the court, I was known as Robin of Loxley- an advisor to the Queen.”

Emma stopped and stared at him, open-mouthed. Robin had always come across as a gentleman, but she never would have thought he had been part of the aristocracy. “So, you...knew my...parents?” The word felt foreign in her mouth and she still did not truly believe that the Royals were her family, but she had to maintain the ruse for now. Besides, for some reason, she found herself actually wanting to learn more about them.

Robin blushed- actually, blushed- and turned his face slightly so he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. “I was technically closer to the Queen-Mother Regina than either Snow or Charming, but I did know them.” She felt a brief moment of disappointment, before she had fully processed his words. When the underlying meaning hit her, she caught Hook’s eyes with a grin.

“Close to Regina?”

“Oh, aye, Robin and Regina were on extremely intimate terms.” Hook was wearing a mischievous grin that lit up his whole face and gave him a far younger appearance, “I’m sure our thief cannot wait to see her again.” Instead of focusing on Robin’s increasingly red complexion, Emma stared at Hook in confusion. Surely, she had misheard.

“I thought we were seeing the Queen and the Prince, not the Queen-Mother?”

Robin seemed to jump at the chance to steer the conversation away from his personal relationships, “We are, but no one gets to see the Queen and the Prince without meeting with Regina first. She makes sure that they don’t have to deal with the heartache of entertaining fakes.”

Emma’s eyes popped and she felt a sudden rush of emotion- anger, fear. “No! No one told me I would have to convince anyone I was the princess!” She wasn’t sure why she was so annoyed, it wasn’t like she had actually planned on going through with the plan- right? She was just going to ditch them once she got to Arendelle. Even so, it seemed like they had been withholding rather vital information.

Hook looked like he was about to reach for her arm, but thought better of it, “You’ll do just fine. You just need a bit of instruction.”

She rounded on him, “I thought all I would have to do was talk to the Queen and the Prince to see if maybe we were family! I am not exactly princess material here!” She indicated her quilted skirt and plain brown bodice to emphasize her point. Nothing about her screamed ‘regal’. Hook remained steady despite her anger, his eyes locked on her’s.

“If you don’t want to do it, we’ll call the whole thing off right now. But, I had thought that you would be willing to do anything if it meant there was a chance of finding your home.” She felt the fight leave her at that. What could she say when he was using her own words back at her? Emma was looking for her home, and she hadn’t even really been willing to consider that it might be with the Queen and the Prince. Maybe she should actually revise her plan a little. It couldn’t hurt to explore all the possibilities, could it? And if she wasn’t really the princess- which was likely- Regina would know right away, and she could continue her search elsewhere in Arendelle. Hook was still watching her intently as these thoughts slowly churned through her mind. She knew that if she really decided to stop the whole crazy plan right now, he would let her. He might spend a little more time trying to talk her out of it, but in the end he would let her go if that was what she wanted. That certainty was the final piece she needed to make her choice.

“Your right. Let’s do this. Where do I start?” Hook and Robin shared a quick grin, before turning back to her.

“What do you say, mate?”

“I say we begin with the basics- posture?

“Aye, her posture is bloody terrible.” Emma scoffed. She supposed she had just agreed to taking a healthy dose of criticism, but if it was going to be like this the entire time, she was probably going to call it quits before the day was out.

Robin seemed to scan the forest for something, giving at a small “Ah” when he found it. He lead their group over to a fallen tree, and stood by the base of it, holding his hand out for Emma expectantly. She had one more moment of hesitation, before sighing and taking hold of his hand. He assisted her in stepping up onto the log, and in steadying herself, then let her go.

“Alright, now what?” She kept her gaze ahead, afraid that if she looked over to the side she would fall right off- grace had never been her strong suit. Robin popped up in front of her, with a stick in one hand, and positioned himself so he was facing her.

“Chin up,” He commanded, and she jutted her chin forward just a bit, feeling very foolish as she did so. Suddenly she felt warmth near her back, and Hook’s arm came into her field of vision, reaching around from behind her. Immediately, she froze up at the close proximity and she heard him chuckle softly. Slowly, he placed his fingers under her chin, and raised it gently. Emma forced away the rush of heat that she felt rising in her from the soft touch, and focused instead on standing a little straighter as Robin deposited the small stick on top of her head.

“Shoulders back,” Hook advised, moving to place his hand and his hook on her shoulders and pulling them into what she supposed was his definition of proper posture. It felt damn unnatural to her.

“Now,” Robin said, taking a step backwards and away from her. How did he make it look so simple? She was having enough trouble balancing standing still. “Come towards me.” Emma raised her arms out to either side, while she carefully placed one foot in front of the other, intent on not falling off the log, or letting the stick fall off her head, or letting her shoulders curve forward. She let out a small smile of victory when she successfully made it two steps, rewarded by one of Robin’s in return. Maybe it wasn’t as hard as she had thought.

“Don’t walk, but try to float.” Emma scoffed when she heard Hook- ‘float’, really?-, but that slight movement shook her balance and her arms pinwheeled a bit as she tried to remain upright. She took a steadying breath when she regained her balance.

“I feel a little foolish,” She admitted as she continued her progress towards the far end of the log, “Am I floating?” She meant it as a joke, a little rib against Hook’s flowery expressions.

However, when Robin grinned at her with obvious pride and replied, “Like a little boat,” she could not fight the blush the crept up her cheeks.

She attempted to deflect from her embarrassment, asking, “What happens next?”

Robin’s grin morphed into something more teasing, “Your hand receives a kiss.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, she felt Hook’s fingers curl gently around her own. He didn’t hold her tightly, and she could have pulled away, but she found that she was frozen in place until his soft lips pressed lightly against her knuckles. His blue eyes remained fixed on her the entire time, filled with some emotion that she could not quite name. As he started to straighten once more, her ability to move returned- which immediately resulted in her falling off the log and landing on her ass. Just perfect, she thought, he’s never going to let me live that down. Sure enough, when she looked back up, he was nearly bent double with laughter and even Robin was shaking slightly, trying to contain his mirth. Roland, however, ran up to her and instantly wrapped her up in a hug, which she returned with one arm.

“Are you alright, Princess Emma?” She smiled. How could anyone not love this boy?

“Yea, kid. I’m alright.”

“Aye, lad. I’d wager the only thing she’s wounded is her pride.” Emma glared at Hook, who had now stepped down from the log and was holding his hand out to help her stand.

She pointedly ignored it, pushing off the ground with a grunt that was decidedly un-princess-like. “I’m fine. Maybe we should move on to something else though, or we’re not going to get anywhere today.”

“Aye, perhaps you’re right.” Emma gave Robin a nod of gratitude. At least someone had her back.

“Is there anything you can teach me while we walk?”

“Perhaps a little family history?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know my parents that well?”

Robin shook his head, “I said I didn’t know them as well as I knew Regina. That doesn’t mean I didn’t know them.”

“Besides, love, certain things about their lives were fairly common knowledge before the Dark One took power. It’s not as if there is much else to gossip about around these parts.” Emma couldn’t remember life before the Dark One’s reign, but she supposed that did make some sense. People would probably talk about their Royal family pretty often.

“Alright, then. Start from the beginning, what should I know?”

“Start from the beginning?” Robin seemed to think about that for a moment, “Well, you were born in the Summer Palace, where the mountains meet the sea.” His matter-of-fact tone when he referred to Emma as the princess never failed to amaze her. Was it really possible that he thought she was the lost princess? She was pretty sure that someone who spent the portion of their childhood they remembered in an orphanage had not started out life in a sunny, seaside palace. Let Robin think what he wanted for now, he’d figure out the truth about her soon enough. Everyone did.

“The Summer Palace, huh? Sounds nice.” She wasn’t about to accept that it was her life story, but she did file the fact away for later.

“You learned horseback riding when you were three.” Hook said, and though she wasn’t facing him, she knew he was smirking. He was very aware of how she felt about horses. She couldn’t help smirking back at him.

“Horseback riding? Yup, that sounds like me.” The sarcasm was thick in her voice and he responded with a laugh.

“Well, you also enjoyed terrorizing the cook, lass. As I recall, you once threw him in the brook I never could understand how a small girl could throw a grown man in a brook, though, knowing you now, I’m not at all surprised.” It was Emma’s turn to laugh, that really did sound like something she would have done. Even at the orphanage, she had been frequently disciplined for the pranks she pulled on the staff. They were never mean-spirited, but life in the orphanage had been dull, and she’d had to create her own ways of having fun. She remembered something that the orphanage’s matron had often said to her.

“Was I wild?”

Hook gave her one of his genuine smiles, “Wrote the book.”

“But you would always fall in line when your Mother gave that look.” Robin interjected, giving her a mock stern glare. Emma tried to imagine it, piecing together the bits she had heard about the Queen, and trying to picture her as a stern mother, about to give her a lecture for ruining yet another dress. She hadn’t thought that she knew what it was like to have parents, but somehow she could almost feel the shame and contrition of being caught red-handed by her mother.

“And my father?”

Robin laughed, “He was wrapped around your finger from the moment you were born.”

“His little duckling,” Hook added.

“Duckling?”

“Aye, that was his pet name for you. It seems fitting now that you’ve become a Swan.” Emma flushed, Hook was really a hopeless flirt. She knew she should just ignore him, but this particular compliment was innocent enough. And it did make her think. It wouldn’t be a huge stretch to think that a man who called his daughter ‘duckling’ would give that same daughter a swan pendant. Her fingers unconsciously reached for it, and for a moment she thought she could see him- her father. Not a pieced-together image like her imagined Queen had been, but a vivid flash of something like memory. Short blond hair, light eyes, and a kind, but noble face. She could see him sitting astride a horse, sword strapped to his waist, looking entirely regal without doing anything at all.

“And...he had a white horse?” It was meant to be a statement, but it came out quiet and uncertain. Hook and Robin stared at her with mouths agape for a moment, before sharing a curious look. She fidgeted uncomfortably, she was probably completely wrong. He probably rode a chestnut horse or maybe he didn’t ride horses at all. She had likely just proven beyond a doubt that she was not the lost princess.

“Aye,” Hook said slowly, searching her face as he did so. “A white horse named Maximus.” The name seemed to trigger something in her and another small flash came to mind. Walking hand-in-hand with the same blond man, to the stables where they were going to feed Maximus his favorite treat…

 

“Apples,” she was more confident with this declaration, “Maximus loved apples.” Oddly enough, Robin gave Hook a smug, knowing look, to which the other man merely shook his head.

“Most horses do, lass.” She deflated a bit at that. He was right, of course. She shouldn’t let herself get caught up in actually believing that she could be the princess. It might be worth talking to Regina to find out, but she wasn’t about to get her hopes up. Doing that could only lead to one thing- disappointment. She was entirely sure that if she allowed herself to truly believe that she was the princess, only to be turned away as a fake by the Royals, she would lose the shreds of motivation she was currently clinging to. Still, a tiny bit of her wanted to learn more about the Queen and the Prince to see if it triggered anything else in her.

“Tell me more about my parents, then? How did they meet?”

Hook looked surprised, “You haven’t heard the story of Snow White and Prince Charming?”

She shook her head. “I mean, I know they are supposed to be kind and true love and all that, but nobody ever really talks about them anymore. I guess with the Dark One ruling over everything, and people thinking that they were dead for so many years, no one really felt much like reminiscing.”

“Aye, I suppose you’re right. Well, Prince Charming’s name is actually Prince James, he was the son of King George, and he was engaged to King Midas’s daughter.”

“Actually-” Robin cut in, “Prince Charming’s real name is David. And he was born a shepherd.” Emma and Hook pivoted to stare at Robin.

“What?” They asked simultaneously.

Robin just nodded and continued, “Regina told me- it’s a bit of a state secret. Anyway, Charming was born with a twin brother who was adopted by King George when they were both very young. The brother’s name was James- a bit of a prick by all accounts. Got himself killed in some contest, and King George made a deal with the Dark One to replace him. That’s how Charming took the place of his brother without anyone knowing the switch had happened.”

“Huh.” Hook sounded genuinely interested in the news. Emma could hardly process it herself. On the one hand, it would make a lot more sense if she was the daughter of a shepherd turned Prince. There would be a hell of a lot less pressure. On the other hand, the man in her brief flashes had seemed so inherently noble that she doubted he could have ever been anything less than royalty. Maybe she had only been imagining things.

Robin continued, “Charming- posing as James- was, as you said, engaged to King Midas’s daughter, Kathrin, when he met Snow. At the time, she was a bandit.” He smiled at Emma’s look of renewed shock, “Back then, Regina was in a bad place. She blamed Snow for the death of her first love and wanted revenge on her for it.”

“Was it really Snow’s fault?” From the few things she had heard about the Queen, Emma had believed her to be a gentle soul- incapable of hurting another person.

It was Hook who shook his head this time. “No, it wasn’t, but Regina was blinded by her anger. For years she hunted Snow, and the people came to know her as the Evil Queen.”

“But-” Robin interrupted once more, and Emma could sense that he didn’t particularly like anyone speaking ill of Regina, “One day, Regina went around disguised as a peasant and was rescued from her own guards by Snow. The two talked, and Regina realised that she wanted to reconcile, to be a family with Snow as they had been years before. So they did.”

“You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself there, mate. That wasn’t the story we were telling. Snow met Charming when she robbed his mother’s wedding ring out of his carriage, and he pursued her.” Something about that sounded familiar, Emma tilted her head as if the new angle would give her a better view of it all.

“A peridot ring.”

“What?” Hook seemed genuinely perplexed by her statement, but she could see Robin flashing another excited grin her way.

“That’s right!” Robin clapped a hand against her shoulder, “It was a peridot ring. The same green as her eyes- and your’s.” Emma stopped and looked at the ground. How had she known that? Had she heard it somewhere and forgotten? It didn’t seem like that detail was general knowledge, since Hook still seemed to be confused by the entire exchange. She felt that small bit of hope inside her swell just a bit, and she tried desperately to keep it contained. She wasn’t going to get ahead of herself on this. Hook, fortunately, chose that moment to suggest they break for an afternoon rest and she looked forward to the respite from ‘training’.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

As it turned out, her training continued anyway. Apparently, Robin and Hook could turn anything into a learning opportunity- including lunch. She had been happily slumped against a tree trunk- or as happy as one could be with rough bark against their back and roots sticking up in uncomfortable places beneath them- munching away on a hunk of bread, when they had accosted her once more. It really wasn’t fair, she thought. If she had known that they would be judging her eating habits, she might have made more of an effort to show some poise. It wasn’t like she was completely hopeless at this etiquette stuff when she was trying, but she had thought they were taking a break. So excuse her for thinking that meant she could relax for a while. But according to Hook, being a princess meant she would have to display perfect manners all the time, so she might as well get used to it. She supposed he was right about that, so she sat up straight, took smaller bites, and chewed carefully- if a bit over-dramatically- as they instructed. Though this drew slightly exasperated, but encouraging, smiles from both men, she could not help thinking that if she was actually required to live like this constantly, she would probably go insane. She added that to her ever-growing list of “reasons why Emma Swan is definitely not the lost princess”, although it seemed that no matter how long the list became, it never quite squashed the faster-growing hope within her.

Thankfully, Roland was tired of the adults holding conversations over his head. By the time their lunch break had concluded, he had commandeered his uncle’s attention- who was obligingly regaling him with some of his more appropriate swashbuckling adventures, periodically giving a theatrical wave with his hook. It gave Emma the chance to walk a few steps behind with Robin- a beneficial position since there had been something she had been meaning to ask him ever since the topic first came up this morning.

“So...you and Regina, huh?” Subtle as always, she silently cursed herself. Once more she found herself grateful for Robin’s calm, unflappable demeanor. He responded as if her inquiry had been some comment on the weather, rather than intrusive and highly personal, which she knew it was.

“We were quite close...once.”

“Before the Dark One overthrew them?” She surmised.

“Aye, and like most of the kingdom, I was led to believe she and the rest of the Royal family perished that day,” His eyes glazed momentarily as he looked off towards the trees, before he continued in a smaller voice, “I would have followed her had I known.” Emma sympathised with the man, who had clearly lost so much, but she couldn’t help her own thoughts from turning to the past. The Dark One’s coup had occurred just a day before she had been dropped off at the orphanage, which she begrudgingly admitted only bolstered the argument for her being the princess. Back then, though, she had felt nothing but bitterness for the whole thing. Everyone was discussing the event: both the Dark One and the Royal Family had disappeared, and everyone feared which would turn up first. When their nightmares were realized only weeks later, with an angry Dark One ascending to power, people kept their grief over the loss of their former monarchs hidden. Quiet whispers and subtle mourning accompanied the transition to the Dark One’s strict regime. Amidst such turmoil, no one much cared about finding out the history of one orphan girl. While the kingdom asked where their rulers had gone, no one so bothered to question why she had been left behind. The story of her life- no one cared about Emma.

Her thoughts must have been clear upon her face, because she was pulled from her memories by the gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder. Robin had turned from his own melancholy to gaze at her with sympathy, “They would have come back for you if it had been at all possible, you know. Your parents loved you very much.” She scoffed to cover the sudden dampness of her eyes. Really, it was shocking how Robin could still be sure that she was the princess after her failed attempts at acting like one this morning. She told him as much, if only to change the topic of conversation.

The glint in his eye told her that he knew exactly what she was trying to do, “From what I recall, your lessons are going about as well as your training lessons ever did.”

Emma laughed, “Well then wouldn’t it be more believable for me to be myself without all this,” she gestured vaguely, “stuff.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “but it would be rude of us to unleash the Royals on you without any preparation.”

She hadn’t really thought about that; it was strange that anyone would put any consideration into trying to make her comfortable. “Thanks...I guess.”

“You know, you didn’t hate all of your lessons when you were a child. There were one or two that you actually seemed to enjoy.”

Emma decided to let his continued belief about her past slide, choosing to humor him for the moment. “Oh yeah? And what were they?”

“Archery and sword-fighting.” She felt her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, whatever she had been expecting it was not that.

“They let a princess learn how to fight?” The idea was appealing to her, but they seemed to have skipped that part in most of the fairy stories she’d heard as a child.

Robin chuckled, “With a former bandit as a mother and a dragon-slayer as a father, it’s not as surprising as you might think.”

“Dragon-slayer?” She definitely had not heard that part of the story earlier.

“A tale for another time, perhaps. It seems we are nearly at our destination.” He indicated the couple of buildings peeking from between the trees up ahead.

“Well, will you at least let me learn the fun stuff, since I’m stuck doing all the boring stuff anyway?” She asked, drawing another laugh from him.

“Aye, I think I could manage a couple of archery lessons. You’ll have to appeal to Hook for instruction with a blade, though. He’s far better than I, at least in that regard.” Of course, Emma thought, because having Robin teach her both would have been too good to be true. Still, now that it had been brought up, Emma was determined to learn. As they approached the village, she drew herself into line with the man in question. He was just winding down a tale- which she was sure must have been exaggerated- that seemed to feature a giant and a room filled to the ceiling with treasure. Noting her presence, he sent Roland back to join his father once the story came to an end.

“What can I do for you, Swan?”

“Robin was saying that the lost princess learned how to fight when she was a kid. So, I was kind of hoping you would teach me to sword-fight?” The words came out in a rush, and she may have muttered the last part, but she was sure he’d heard her, because he raised that infuriating eyebrow of his.

“Are you asking for my help, love?” Now he was smirking too, she wasn’t even slightly surprised. He was a smug bastard, she wasn’t sure why she ever thought this was a good idea.

“Forget it,” She quickened her step, making for what appeared to be the inn. She didn’t need his help if he was going to be an ass about it; she was sure she could get by well enough with just Robin’s archery lessons.

“Wait, lass,” his namesake wrapped around her elbow pulled her around to face him before she could make it to the inn’s door. “I’d be happy to help.” His sudden seriousness and the almost shy incline of his head, were an unusual look for him, though she had to admit that she didn’t entirely hate it. It took her another moment to ensure that his face was devoid of any hidden amusement.

“Okay,” The statement revealed more of her confusion and surprise than she would have liked, but it was too late to do anything about that now. Hook gave her a small, almost hopeful, smile.

“Okay.” He echoed, then with more confidence, “Meet me back here after dinner and we’ll begin.”

“So soon?” Emma hadn’t really imagined a time-scale for the whole thing, but she had kind of thought she would at least have a good night’s sleep before she was asked to do any more physical activity.

Hook laughed, releasing her elbow and stepping past her towards the inn. “No time like the present, Swan.”

**********************************************************************************************************************************************

Dinner was backed by the soundtrack of Roland re-telling the stories Killian had shared earlier, albeit his own versions of them, which were frequently even more fanciful than the embellished half-truths they were founded upon. Overall, the tone was light and companionable amidst the little group. Killian purposefully avoided needling Swan, even when opportunities arose. It had been awkward enough when they had discovered the inn only boasted two bedrooms, each with one double bed. He had been nearly certain that she would call off their training right then, if only to retain some sort of distance between them. However, she seemed to realize that a training session would delay the inevitable moment they had to share close sleeping quarters, and wisely kept her mouth shut. Killian, for his part, was trying to make that decision as easy as possible for her. While he had no doubt the she could handle herself in nearly any situation, he genuinely believed it a good idea for her to learn how to handle a weapon. Should she ever need to defend herself, he’d rather she had as many skills at her disposal as possible. Because he did not want to have to come to her rescue, he told himself.

When the meal had concluded, he retrieved both his and Robin’s blades from their respective rooms and returned to the front of the inn, where he found Swan waiting. Somehow, she had managed to change into trousers- perhaps he had chatted with Robin for a bit longer than he had thought. He couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate the shapely curve of her legs, now so clearly outlined, but his thoughts returned to the business at hand when he caught her disapproving glare. Handing her his own cutlass, which was the smaller of the two weapons and more suited to her size, he indicated that she should follow him around to the back of the inn. The innkeeper had recommended the trampled-dirt clearing when Killian had asked after a suitable, private practice location earlier in the evening. He had assumed that Emma would rather train away from prying eyes and, indeed, the tension in her shoulders seemed to lessen when she realized that they would not be practicing where the villagers could see.

A few paces away from her, he fell into a defensive stance, sword raised ahead of him. Robin’s straight-blade was an unfamiliar weight in his hand, but he quickly adjusted to it, making a mental note to account for it in his movements later on. “Try it,” he encouraged her with an inclination of his head. She tried to imitate him, and did remarkably well, he had to admit. Even so, he straightened and walked over to correct her on a couple of finer points. She immediately startled at his touch and if it had been another time, Killian would have let the innuendo slip from the tip of his tongue. But he had promised himself to remain professional for this, and so he merely adjusted the placement of her elbow and the angle of her stance, keeping contact and comments to a minimum. The effort did not go unnoticed and although Swan remained tense, it was now from concentration instead of discomfort. He marked it as a win.

The instruction continued thus for quite a while, with Killian showing a stance or a movement, and having her mimic it, with corrections or guidance provided along the way. It was clear from her increasingly frequent sighs of exasperation that she was growing impatient, but he had not wanted to rush into a sparring match when he was unsure of her abilities. However, he was continually impressed with the level of skill she was displaying. As far as he knew, she had never had any formal training with a blade, at least not in the years she could remember, but every move belied an ease that only came from experience. She was undoubtedly rusty, but it was nothing a handful of lessons more would not make up for. With the sun shedding the last of its light over the horizon, Killian decided that at least one short spar session wouldn’t be remiss. At the very least, it would get her to stop huffing about like a petulant child. When he voiced his suggestion, she jumped at the offer, apparently eager for some real action.

“About time,” she muttered as she fell into an offensive stance. Of course she would take the offensive, even knowing her partner to be more experienced.

“Don’t fret, love. I’ll go easy on you.” He teased with a smirk, if only to see the way her eyes flared bright against the twilight.

“Don’t.” She stated, leaping to attack even as the word fell from her lips. Taken by surprise, he still managed to parry her easily. They fell into it readily enough, each attacking or blocking in turn with movements that seemed almost choreographed at times. No words were exchanged, nor were they needed, as their focus was entirely intent upon reading the other’s body for cues. Killian did hold back a bit, but not nearly as much as he had planned to. Somehow, she kept surpassing his expectations. As the last of the daylight began to seep away, though, he pressed his attack, ready to be done for the evening. It was only a moment before he had her on her back, leaning over her with her sword caught between his hook and his own blade. If he had not been acutely aware of what their sleeping arrangements were to be, there would have been something to be said about having her in such a compromising position. Just as he began to regret missing such a ripe opportunity, he saw her free hand raise, speeding towards his head. She slowed it just before it made contact with his temple, the rock she was holding softly tapping against him rather than doing any actual damage. It was the dazzling grin that she gave him in the moment following that really threw him off guard.

“I win!”

“Bad form, Swan.” He muttered as he pushed himself off of her, it didn’t escape his notice that it was the second time in as many days that they’d found themselves in such a position. Part of him hoped it wouldn’t become a habit, another part hoped it did.

“Hey, I was just doing what you said- using my surroundings to my advantage.”

“Aye, but in this instance it was cheating.”

“You can’t cheat in a fight.”

“I suppose you’re right. Though if you are truly fighting someone, you should probably knock them out, not give them a love tap.”

In a shockingly friendly move, Swan nudged his shoulder with her own, “Oh, I will, don’t worry. Didn’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours, though.” She couldn’t actually be flirting with him, could she?

“Why, Swan, I didn’t know you thought I was pretty.” Her grin shrank, but only by a small bit. It seemed her mood was too good to be killed even by his flirtations.

“Don’t push it, buddy.” She attempted seriousness, as she led him back towards the inn, but her tone was still light and playful. Killian decided against pushing his luck any further that evening, allowing a comfortable silence to follow them up the stairs to their room. He waited outside for a moment to allow her time to ready herself for bed before entering, grabbing a pillow from the free side of the bed, removing his duster and settling on the floor. Swan made no comment on his choice, though he knew she hadn’t expected it. He had noticed her lying as near the edge as she could to allow him ample room on the other side. If he had taken the space, he had little doubt that the both of them would spend half the night awake attempting to stay as still as possible so as not to disturb the other with wandering limbs. At least with this arrangement, one of them would have a comfortable night’s sleep- and it wasn’t as if Killian was unused to sleeping on the floor. After a few moments, in which he made a few unsuccessful attempts to find a good position for slumber, her quiet voice broke the silence.

“How did you learn to sword-fight?” Although the question was innocent, the answer was connected to things that Killian normally tried to forget.

“I could ask you the same thing, love. You hardly seemed a novice out there.”

“Stop deflecting. Besides, you know I don’t remember.” She was right, he had been trying to turn the conversation away from himself, but the compliment was sincere. It brought a small smile to his face to hear the barely-there edge of pride in her response. With a sigh, he decided to tell at least a portion of the truth.

“When I was a lad, I had designs upon joining my elder brother in the Navy when I came of age. To that end, I found anyone who was willing to teach me a few skills. Swordplay included.” She was clever, he had little doubt that she could read between his words.

“But the Dark One took power, so you became a pirate instead?” She guessed.

“Not right away. I was still young at the time. After a year or so of finding my own way, Robin found me and I became part of the Merry Men for a time.” Swan made a soft sound of understanding, as if some piece of a puzzle had clicked into place for her.

“That’s why you’re Uncle Killian, then.” He couldn’t help but grin at the observation, especially knowing that she was unable to see him. She had not said his name once since the moment they had met, and he had to admit that it sounded nice in her accent. Perhaps he could find a way to get her to use it more often.

“Aye,” he agreed. She was silent once more, and he could not tell whether she was pondering this new information or had finally given into the call of sleep.

“What happened to your brother?” The question was spoken with hesitance and a certain tenderness, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer. Killian himself was entirely sure that she didn’t. Something about the cover of darkness and the empathy- entirely free of pity- compelled him to give it to her anyway.

“The same that happened to most of the naval officers who refused to serve the Dark One. He mutinied, and joined the rebellion. Eventually, news reached me that his vessel had been captured and there’s only one punishment for treason.” He didn’t say it- couldn’t. Killian had nearly gone mad the day he learned the news, only Robin’s sure arms had kept him from running to the docks to confirm the truth. He had wanted to leave the Merry Men then and there, to return the seas and strike openly against the monster responsible for his brother’s death. Robin, however, had insisted that he stay until he was eighteen, only allowing Killian to go his own way when he was certain that the departure would not be immediately followed by his death.

“So, that’s why you became a pirate?” He had to chuckle at her single-mindedness, though he knew she was doing it for his benefit as much as anything else. It was refreshing not to have someone respond with misplaced apologies.

“Aye. I stole the very vessel my brother had served on, right out from under the Dark One’s nose.” He couldn’t help the pride that seeped into his voice. The Jolly was a beautiful ship, and the fact that he had taken her away from the tyrant only added to her charms, in his opinion.

“What’s she like?” Killian was shocked, both by her correct use of pronouns in referring to his ship, and by the generous way she had managed to steer the conversation to safer waters. He couldn’t help gushing about the Jolly’s many virtues, listening as Swan’s quiet chuckles transformed into soft snores. He found himself drifting off with the rare combination of a smile on his lips and the memory of his brother on his mind.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter than usual because I started writing it and it went on much longer than I thought it would, so what was going to be the second half of this chapter is now the start of the next one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

She had awoken to the melodic chirp of birds drifting in along a beam of pale blue morning light, which turned out to be entirely at odds with the hellish day that followed. Horses. Logically, of course, she had known that they would be riding the remaining distance to the port and, logically, she was grateful for not having to walk there. Exiting the inn to immediately encounter the three beasts that Robin had obtained- through the legal exchange of coin, he swore, although he would not speak for where the coin came from- was enough to override that logical portion of her brain entirely. She stood several feet away from the mount that Robin described to her as one of the most gentle animals he had ever seen, staring at in trepidation.

“If you prefer, darling, you could ride with me.” Emma rolled her eyes at Hook’s salacious grin, but the insinuation annoyed her far less now that she knew he would rather sleep on the floor than overstep her boundaries. It did, however, motivate her to action. She moved towards the horse with lingering reluctance, ignored the hook offered as assistance, and pulled herself up in one deft movement. Hook seemed to give a hum of surprised approval at the action, but she did not want to confirm the distance between her and the ground by looking down to make certain. Instead, she locked her eyes on the road ahead.

“Are you boys going to join me?” She was exceedingly proud of how even her voice came out. They scrambled into place on their respective steeds, with Roland placed securely in front of his father, and set out on their journey. According to Hook it would only take another day and a half to reach the port, so long as there were no serious delays. Emma found a small bit of consolation in counting down the hours until they would no longer be on horseback.

The morning was blessedly uneventful. There were few other travelers on the road, and they were able to spend much of the time distracting Emma with more information about her family history. Apparently, her step-great-grandmother had killed her grandmother at some point to ensure that her own daughter became queen. It all made her a little leary about getting herself entangled in the whole Royal thing. However, the story of how her father slayed a dragon had her feeling even deeper connection to the Prince. That sort of accidental heroism was how she imagined it playing out if she was dumped into such a situation. It was funny, she could almost see herself as a little girl, running through stone corridors with a wooden sword, determined to slay a dragon of her own. It wouldn’t quite resolve itself into a real memory though- it was more like seeing it through an icy pane of glass- and she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t something she’d made up.

Noon brought about a blissful reprieve from riding. Despite Killian’s assurances that Emma was a skilled horsewoman, and Robin’s that she was a far superior rider to Killian, she was delighted to feel her feet on the ground once more. She didn’t fail to notice the hypocrisy in her thoughts- having complained of walking only yesterday- but she did choose to ignore it. So when Robin suggested that they extend their rest for a while, to give them time for an archery lesson, she jumped at the opportunity. With how easily she had taken to swordplay the previous evening, she was actually looking forward to finding she had another hidden talent. As a result, she was perhaps a little to eager when she made her first attempt, only to have the arrow fly in a precarious arc and bury itself in the ground a regrettably short distance away. Damn. She tried again- taking a little more care with her aim, steadying her breath, and being sure to follow each adjustment Robin suggested. The arrow hit a tree...three away from the one she had been aiming for. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hook usher Roland a little further away- as if she could somehow get an arrow to fly sideways and backwards to hit either of them. Then again, she wasn’t really sure what was going to happen with her next shot. Maybe the move was for the best.

She emptied the quiver with varying degrees of what could generously be called success. Overall, her shots had gotten closer to the target, and very few had hit the ground after that first one. She was getting better, but she mentally swore she would stick to a sword if she ever found herself in trouble. As she and Robin collected the dispersed projectiles, he tried to bolster her confidence about the endeavor. He wouldn’t be deterred even when she pointed out that, if she were the lost princess, she would have surely inherited a bit more of her mother’s skill.

“To tell you the truth, Emma, your lessons when you were young were more for fun than anything else.”

“So...you’re telling me that I was always this bad?” She waved her hand vaguely at the remaining arrows littering the forest.

“Well,” Robin seemed to be picking his next words carefully, “Back then you were a bit too small to really hold bow. There was usually someone helping you pull the string.”

Emma laughed, “I never really learned how to shoot on my own? Well, that makes a lot more sense.” She paused, studying Robin thoughtfully for a moment. “You were the one teaching me - the princess- back then, weren’t you?”

Robin grinned. “I only assisted when your mother was otherwise occupied.” She mulled that over, trying to figure out whether it should have triggered a memory of some kind if she actually was the princess. She hadn’t gotten so much as a blip of the vague images she sometimes had. Then again, she had been very focused on the task at hand, so perhaps that had thrown off the whole memory thing. Ugh, she thought, it’s like I’m starting to think I actually AM the princess. With a shake of her head, she stalked back towards her horse, hoping that her underlying fear might actually be enough to keep her from overthinking for the rest of the day.

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Something seemed to slide into place and the world was a little more right than it had been a moment before. Killian was back where he belonged- aboard the Jolly. They had arrived in the late afternoon on their second day of riding, which was excellent time, considering the bad luck that had befallen them when they set out. He had to admit that he was delighted to be done with horse-riding, though, perhaps, not quite as delighted as Swan. She had a look of near-glee on her face when they had exchanged the horses for a few gold at the stables. Although he would never admit to it if questioned, it was with a desire to see such a look again that he set off from the rest of the group as they went to re-supply. Now- standing on the deck of his ship with the others shuffling aboard- he felt slightly foolish for the impulse that had led him to holding the awkward bundle under his arm. Still, he was not one to let fear hold him back. With only minor hesitance, Killian approached Swan as she took her first step aboard. Her look was one of adorable confusion when she noticed that his arm was raised to pass the bundle to her.

“What’s that?” Direct as ever. Killian attempted to brush off the slight offense he felt at the suspicion in her tone. It was more of an indication of the lack of gifts received in her life, rather than any reflection of her thoughts about him, he was sure. Even so, he couldn’t help himself from shifting the bundle to his left arm and using his freed hand to scratch behind his ear in a nervous gesture.

“I thought you might like it,” He practically shoved it into her hands at that point, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t actually answered her question. She just raised her eyebrows in surprise before unfolding the dress he had handed her. Reaching to the floor, it was of a bright red cloth and, though still a practical dress, it was of a finer cut than her former bodice and skirt- and far more suited to a would-be princess than the trousers she was presently sporting.

He tried not to fidget while he waited for her reaction, wondering what the blank, considering look she was currently giving the garment meant. After a few moments, she seemed to settle on confusion. It wasn’t what he had been aiming for, but he supposed it was better than rejection or insults.

“Why?”

Killian was baffled by the question, since it was the one he was fairly certain he had answered already- before it was asked.

“Why did I think you would like it?” His bewilderment must have been apparent in his voice because her face softened when she heard it.

“No...just- why give it to me?” Again, he was sure that question had already been answered, but this time he could see the vulnerability in her eyes. She wasn’t used to anyone doing anything for her, and especially without reason. It was something he was far too familiar with himself. Perhaps that was why he had felt it so important to make her happy. If he couldn’t do it for himself, at least he might be able to help her.

“Lass, I already told you. I thought you might like it.” He could see the shift his sincerity caused in her, and was quick to lighten the mood. It wouldn’t do to let her put space between them now. “Besides, a princess shouldn’t wear trousers to a meeting with the Queen-Mother.”

Any trace of the fear that had been stealing into her eyes dissipated when she rolled them in time with his words. He considered it a success, even if she did mutter, “I have a skirt with me, you know,” as she turned to walk away. The even quieter, “I do like the dress, though,” that followed caused Killian to break into a wide grin. Definitely a success.

He was in an unsurprisingly good mood as he led the others to their respective rooms- thankful that he had dismissed all but the essential crew mates. While he was certain his men would obey him, their restraint may be lessened with a woman around, and he didn’t particularly believe that they would be a positive influence on Roland. In addition, the princess con was a delicate situation- the more who knew of it, the more likely it would be to fail. That left only two other crew besides himself- and they had sailed with him for long enough that he knew they would maintain the secret. The beginnings of the voyage were much like the rest of the journey; the crew knowing enough to leave the captain and his guests in peace. Among their little group, however, there was very little actual peace. From the moment Killian had begun preparations to leave the dock, Roland had stuck by his elbow, asking thousands of questions and begging to be taught how to sail. Although he had only half-heartedly answered some of the questions- too busy with the task at hand to do much else- he waved Robin off when he attempted to apologize and drag his son away. There were few things he was able to teach the boy that were both legal and useful, but sailing was both. Sharing it with the lad allowed him to be a positive influence for once, and he was not about to let such an opportunity pass.

The sun was drawing near the horizon when Killian finally felt comfortable enough to abandon his post at the helm for a while. The water and winds may have been favorable, but he disliked lingering within sight of the coast along the Dark One’s lands. His military was known for being especially unforgiving, and Killian was well aware of the lethal consequences that would follow if he became complacent. Well away from the borders of that cursed land, he and Roland joined the others for dinner in the galley. He couldn’t help but notice that Swan sat with perfect posture and maintained proper etiquette throughout the meal. She may have been eating plain fare, but she would not have been out of place at a royal banquet. Despite all her complaining, she had taken to her training like a swan to water. There was no doubt left in his mind that the Royals would love her.

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Sailor’s instincts drove Killian above deck before dawn. He greeted the silence and solitude with a sense of familiarity; for many years he had kept them as his closest companions. It was unusual for him to have gone so long without a moment to himself. However, from the moment he had re-entered Robin’s camp he had not been truly alone- and in the past few days he hadn’t been apart from the others at all, except to sleep. It was disconcerting, the level of ease he felt around them- even Swan. He had thought the harsh lessons which had taught him to keep his distance from others would have been a bit more effective. At least with Robin, he understood. The man had been his mentor in his darkest times, and Killian was sure that no amount of physical distance or time apart could entirely corrode that bond- though he had half attempted to do just that for years. With the Swan woman, though, it was something else entirely. There was no history between them and he certainly didn’t owe her anything. Despite that, he could see himself reflected in the darker parts of her eyes. The loss that branded his soul was just as clearly written across her own, if only one had the the eyes to see it. And it only made her all the more lovely.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the very subject of them stepped through the door from below decks. He was exceedingly grateful for the few moments it took her to reach his place at the helm, as the sight of her wearing the dress he had given her the day before left him incapable of coherent thought for a time. With the pinks and oranges of the sunrise as a backdrop, he felt as if he was seeing not a princess, but a goddess. Fortunately, by the time she arrived by his side, he had found his words, stuttering though they may be.

“You...you look stunning.” He could hear the hushed reverence in his own voice and eagerly hoped that she would chalk it up to a desire to preserve the stillness of the morning. The blush that crept up her cheeks matched the dress nicely, and had he felt a bit more of his usual swagger, he might have commented on it. As it was, he revelled in watching her accept a sincere compliment- a small smile that mirrored her’s tugging at his lips.

The moment was interrupted, perhaps for the better, as Robin announced his arrival on deck. “Good morning, Killian, Swan. Ready to continue with your lessons?”

“Really? This doesn’t seem like the place for archery. It’ll be a hell of a lot harder to get your arrows back from the bottom of the sea.”

“True.” Robin conceded, but there was that glint in his eye that told Killian he had a plan. One that he probably wouldn’t like. “But there are still other things you should learn.”

“Alright. I’ll bite. What else is there?”

“Dancing.” Killian barely held back a groan; Robin’s master plan was suddenly very clear to him.

“Dancing?” You would have thought someone had just asked her to breathe underwater.

“It’s a common activity at Royal events, love. And there will likely be a ball in your honor once you are re-united with your family.” Although Killian’s explanation seemed to placate her, she remained wary of the idea.

“....right. How am I supposed to learn to dance without music?”

Robin grinned, “I have been told I have a decent singing voice.”

Swan’s eyebrows arched skeptically even while she took a tentative step towards Robin. “Singing and dancing, that’s quite the combo.”

Rather than positioning himself for a hold, he angled his head towards Killian, who was not quite sure whether to mentally curse or hug his friend for the move.

“Killian will do the dancing. I’m saving myself for the Queen-Mother.” He only restrained himself from glaring at Robin to respond to Swan’s questioning gaze. His cheeks warmed with her attention, and his hand found the back of his ear.

“It was one of the skills I practiced for the Navy. I’m not that good.”

“Nonsense,” Robin pushed him roughly forward by his shoulder, “You’re as capable as any of the young men at court.”

Killian wanted to protest further, but Swan was looking at him expectantly, just a hint of fear in her own eyes. He held out his arms expectantly, inhaling sharply when she stepped into him. It took him a moment to realize that Robin had already begun a tune, a slow easy waltz. Perfectly suited for a beginner.

“So, how do we do...this?” Swan’s uncertainty encouraged confidence in Killian. He wanted to sooth her nerves any way he could.

“This is a waltz,” he informed her as he began to move them across the deck, “And there is only one rule- pick a partner who know’s what he’s doing.” Although she rolled her eyes- a gesture he had come to expect by now- he felt her relax in his arms, allowing him to lead them through the movements. So close to her, he could count the shades of greens and blues in her eyes- as varied as the sea itself. It took more willpower than he would admit to keep from staring at them, memorizing those shades and how they shifted when he spun her. Looking down was hardly safer with her corset displaying her curves beautifully. He forced his mind to stay on the dance rather than their closeness. She was a wonder- determined, smart, and filled with cautious hope. Even if she wasn’t a princess, she deserved far more than a pirate with a darkened heart.

Killian felt her eyes tracing lines across his face, which coaxed a genuine smile from him.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me. I’m actually getting the hang of this.” He caught her gaze at the words- seeing both embarrassment and happiness reflected there. How she could ever believe that he was laughing at her, he didn’t know. Nothing was further from the truth.

“On the contrary, love, I was thinking of how you told me that you weren’t princess material.”

“Really? You’re saying ‘I told you so’ now?” The predictable annoyance was there, but it was mostly buried by something which, had Killian not known any better, he might have termed affection. He idly wondered if there would ever come a day when she would be able to accept such compliments without suspicion.

“I believe what I was try to say, Your Highness, is that you appear to be a natural.” His eyes held her’s even as he bowed slightly to end their dance, willing her to see the sincerity behind his words. She seemed transfixed, remaining within the circle of his arms, that pretty blush stealing back into her cheeks. It was a moment he would stretch on for eternity, if he were able, but after only a handful of heartbeats, Roland broke their spell- bouncing onto the deck and requesting a dance of his own with the ‘princess’. After looking to her for approval, Killian passed Swan to her new partner and returned to the helm. His attention split between watching the horizon and the duo twirling about the lower deck; he failed to notice Robin’s approach until the main spoke.

“Well, this is an interesting development.”

“What is?”

“You and our princess.”

“There is no me and Emma.” Killian shook his head, but refused to meet Robin’s eyes. The last thing the man needed was encouragement for his preposterous ideas.

“Perhaps, but I see the way you look at her...and the way she looks at you.” The words intrigued him enough to turn his head. How exactly did she look at him? “I just want to be certain that you still want to go through with the plan.”

“Of course I do. If Swan finds a home from all of it, so much the better.”

“Even if it’s not real?”

He turned away again, considering the woman laughing brightly a few yards away.

“So long as she’s happy, what does it matter?” Robin’s eyes were doing their best to see the thoughts moving through his skull, but Killian refused to make his task any easier.

“And if- when- she finds out that you lied? That you never believed she was the princess and were only looking to line your own pocket, getting a side of revenge on the Dark One at the same time?”

It was a scenario he didn’t even want to consider.

“She won’t.”

“Are you prepared to let her go, then? Because if you stick around to court her, the truth is bound to come out at some point.”

His jaw clenched and he felt his fingers try to tighten against the wheel; he forced them to let it go instead. “There is nothing to let go of.” With the knowledge that any further conversation would be increasingly unpleasant, he walked away from Robin without saying anything more.

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The wind sifted through Emma’s hair as she stood at the prow staring across the seemingly endless expanse of water around her. Hook had told her that they would not arrive in Arendelle for another few days; one of the few things he had actually said to her since they stepped aboard the vessel. He had kept to himself since that first day, after the dance lessons. She was pretty sure she hadn’t said or done anything to provoke the withdrawal, and he acted perfectly normal during the couple of sparring sessions they had managed. It was probably a result of being back on his ship, enjoying being home, she figured. He was in his element and didn’t really need anyone else. With the value she placed on her own independence, she could empathize. Though she didn’t have a place to call home, the way he had the Jolly Roger. 

His distance was beginning to wear on her by the third day. Or, more precisely, being in the company of just Robin and Roland was wearing on her. The kid was cute, and she already adored him, but she needed some adult conversation sometimes, just to maintain her own sanity. Unfortunately, Robin’s brand of conversation often featured his unwavering conviction that she was the princess. The idea in itself wasn’t the issue- she half-believed it herself these days- but it was always accompanied by those expectations of what she should do and who she should be. She was already starting to feel the pressures of a life she wasn’t sure she belonged in yet. It was exhausting. All she wanted was a normal chat, where she could just be herself- just Emma Swan. As the couple of crew members weren’t terribly sociable, that left Hook as her only option. She was sure, from times they had managed civilized speech, that he would treat her as an equal- not a once and future royal.

So, she decided that afternoon, when she realized that he was no longer pretending to be busy on deck, that she would seek out his company in his quarters. Her heavy knocks were answered by a gruff, “Come in”. She entered cautiously, feeling a little out-of-place in the dress he’d given her, on the ship he owned, and now in his room. It was difficult to not be acutely aware that she was in his space. The moment his eyes found her, however, a genuine concern sprang in them that put her at ease.

“Swan, is everything alright?” He left the maps he had been leaning over to step towards her- she idly thought that perhaps she had been wrong, and he had been busy.

“It’s nothing,” she said, a little apologetically, shifting from foot to foot, “I could just use some company that knows words more complicated than butterfly and doesn’t look at me like I already have a crown on my head.” His careful scrutiny only caused her to fidget more and she was nearly at the point of giving up on the whole endeavour, when he inclined his head towards the desk chair.

“I believe I can provide that,” He smirked, but she assumed that was more-or-less a habit for him at this point, “and some rum.” Emma grinned at him, a little alcohol would certainly be welcome at this point. It might not sort out the jumble her thoughts had gotten themselves in, but it could at least shut them up for a while.

“So…” he began, as he measured out a generous serving of rum on a side table, “What should our topic of conversation be?”

Well shit. Emma hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Does anyone even plan conversations? She accepted the tumbler he handed her absentmindedly, casting her eyes about the room for inspiration. Her search was side-tracked, however, when she came across his forearms- revealed now by his rolled-up shirtsleeves. Really, no one’s forearms had any right to be that attractive. As she followed the lines of sinew upwards, her attention was drawn to the ink right around his elbow.

“Who’s Milah?” The question was out of her mouth before she had a moment to consider it. Now it would be blatantly obvious that she’d been ogling him, and she was clearly poking at a personal subject, which had not been her intention. But the damage was done, she couldn’t take it back, and though she was sorry for the immediate tension in his body, she was actually curious to hear his answer.

“Someone from long ago.” Yup, it was definitely a sore spot and despite his confessions about his brother at the inn, she held no illusions about being his confidant. They both masked their discomfort by gulping down some rum, and she studiously chose not to notice just how big his gulp was.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you for the dress.” Hook raised his eyebrows in surprise, “So...thanks.” Her attempt at alleviating the awkwardness between them were horribly ineffective, and once more she considered walking out the door.

“It was her’s.” It took Emma a beat to process what he’d said- well, she understood the words just fine, it was more the fact that he had said it at all that she was having difficulty with.

“What?”

Hook looked down, studying his glass with far more interest than it deserved. “The dress, it was Milah’s.”

“Ah.” She wasn’t entirely sure what the response to that was, but she was pretty sure that she shouldn’t just leave him hanging. “You loved her?” It wasn’t much of a leap, but she wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Aye. She joined my crew shortly after I became Captain of the Jolly- I fell for her immediately.” 

“What happened to her?” Emma could already tell what the answer would be- his reminisces were much too fond for any usual parting of ways. She only asked because she could see in his eyes how much he wanted to talk about it; that is was something he needed to share.

“She’d started out life as a maid- more of an indentured servant, really- all she desired was freedom. I met her in a tavern one day, offered her the chance to leave. She didn’t even hesitate. A few years later, the Dark One found us and I learned that he had been her master. He killed her in front of me and cut off my hand for having dared to take her from him. As if a woman is an object that can be taken.” His countenance noticeably darkened when the Dark One entered the conversation, and he spat his words in an attempt to rid himself of the foul taste they left on his tongue. Had Emma been a more affectionate person, she might have hugged him or, at the least, offered him a shoulder to lean on. But, she wasn’t those things. The best she could do for him was offer her understanding.

“Thank you,” her words were surer now, encouraging him to look at her as she continued, “She sounds like an amazing woman. I am honored to wear anything that was once her’s.” Truth rang in her words- she was prouder wearing this remembrance of a strong woman who fought against her circumstances than she would be wearing any crown. Hook nodded, but chose to let her comment hang comfortably in the air between them, sipping on his rum- more conservatively this time. She felt a sudden desire to share a piece of herself, as he had done. It wasn’t that she thought he expected anything in return, just the opposite, in fact. She was certain that if she got up and walked out now, he wouldn’t stop her nor hold it against her. Perhaps whatever compulsion had encouraged him to share in the first place had set upon her as its next victim. 

Either way, she took a deep breath before saying, “I was in love once- I guess it wasn’t even that long ago, though it sure feels like it.” She sighed- she wasn’t even sure where to begin the story. It wasn’t one that she’d had to share with anyone before, not that she’d had someone to share it with anyway. “We met and bonded over petty crimes. I thought he was going to be my family, my home…Anyway, we decided to quit the crime life, just one big job and then we could leave the Dark One’s kingdom and settle down. The job involved splitting up, and when I went to meet him, the guards were there instead. He set me up.”

She could see Hook’s fingers flexing against the side of his glass, blocked from forming the fist they were obviously trying for. Her eyes stayed trained there, carefully avoiding his own and whatever emotions might be there. It felt like she was walking a ledge, trying not to let her emotions overwhelm her- but she knew that she had to get the whole story out, if only this once. If she looked in his eyes, though, she might go tumbling right over the edge and not be able to find her way back to solid ground. To steady her nerves, she drained the last of her rum, the liquid burning in a way that soothed the cold ache of memory.

“I spent eleven months in a cell. Found out I was pregnant early on. Didn’t have much of a choice but to give the kid up.” It was her glass that she was staring at now, trying to will more alcohol into it. She was far too sober for this. As if reading her thoughts, Hook brought the bottle over and topped the glass off- with more than was generally advisable, but she felt the moment called for it.

“Thanks.” After a quiet moment, in which neither did anything more than stare at the amber liquid like a mirror to the past, Hook caught her attention by raising his glass towards her.

“To those we’ve lost,” She bowed her head in imitation of his while lifting her glass. Pain to pain, theirs matched pretty well.

“To those we’ve lost,” she murmured back. Raising the drink to her lips she wondered if he was willing each swallow to drown out the demons, the way she was. They sat with their thoughts for a while longer, until Emma could no longer stand the weight of the past pushing against them.

“Tell me something about Arendelle. I’ve never been outside the Enchanted Forest. Is it very different?” She could see the instant he relaxed, gratefully latching onto the distraction. He was a natural storyteller- explaining the sea-side kingdom’s customs before regaling her with dramatic re-tellings of his various travels and adventures as a pirate. She, in turn, offered up the occasional anecdote about the pranks she had played in the orphanage, or about the more risky ventures she found herself in as a thief. With the conversation turned to fonder memories, the melancholy slowly dissipated, until both found themselves laughing freely well into the night. She was probably more than a little drunk- terrible form for a princess, she thought, though he didn’t comment on it- when he offered to escort her back to her quarters. Gratitude was immediate when she realized that, between the rolling of the ship and the way the world was spinning, the arm he offered her was entirely necessary to keep her on her feet. He was a steady presence beside her all the way to her cabin.

“Goodnight, Emma.”

Climbing unceremoniously into her bunk, she smiled. It was good to be just Emma. “Goodnight, Killian.” Her reply was slightly slurred, more from the fact that her face was already half-buried in her pillow than from the effects of the alcohol, and sleep claimed her quickly.


	6. Chapter 5

The storm had been expected. Hook had warned them all of the imminent weather long before Emma had even realized that it was slightly breezier than usual, the clouds a shade or two darker. They’d had almost a full day to prepare the ship and themselves. By evening, when the lightning on the horizon made it obvious even to her untrained eyes that the storm would hit soon, everything was in place. All they would have to do was wait below-decks until it had passed. What was not expected, was Roland’s absolute insistence that the four of them remain together for the duration. The kid was terrified, despite their precautions- or maybe because of them- and he was pretty damn determined not to let anyone out of his sight. Whether he wanted them by his side to distract him from his own fears, or whether it had more to do with needing to see them to be certain they were safe, Emma wasn’t certain. Instinct whispered that, as a boy who had lost his mother, he needed the reassurance of proximity during danger, needed to be sure that he wouldn’t lose someone forever when they left his side. It was a sentiment she could understand, and so she readily agreed to a ‘sleepover’ in Robin’s quarters.

The small cabin, which held only one set of bunks, wasn’t really the prime choice for three grown adults and a child. It was, however, the place Roland was most familiar with. Besides, Emma and Hook could both sneak back to their own quarters once the kid was asleep. They just had to make it look like they were going to sleep there. To that end, Hook formed a relatively comfortable nest on the floor out of pillows and blankets and Emma wore her nightclothes, sitting on the lower bunk and brushing out her hair as she did every night before bed. Roland was resting his back against her shins and Robin- who had claimed the upper bunk- was lounging on the floor beside him. He was juggling a some small object in an attempt to distract Roland from the increasingly intense rocking of the ship. The more she tried to figure out exactly what it was, the less she could tell- it wasn’t the right shape to be a ball, but she had no other ideas. Eventually, she gave up trying to guess.

“What is that?” Robin halted the object’s movements at her words and offered it up for her inspection.

“A jewelery box, as far as I can tell. Can’t get it to open though.”

Emma took the small box and held it up. It certainly couldn’t hold much, not being any bigger than her closed fist. The outside was intricately decorated with small flowers and richly colored enamel; it was definitely worth a bit of money, which only made her wonder even more about what was on the inside.

“Are you sure that’s what it is?”

Robin shrugged, “What else could it be?”

“I don’t know…” There was some recognition tingling at the back of her mind, but the more she tried to focus on it, the more it slipped away from her. “Something….else?”

“Perhaps. We may never know what mysteries it holds.”

She handed it back to him, “Why bring it with you?”

“It’s not mine. It’s his.” He nodded to Hook, who was now curled atop his nest of pillows, apparently fast asleep. So much for sneaking back to our own quarters, she thought. That answer didn’t really tell her why Robin had it at the moment, though, and her confusion must have been apparent, because he continued to explain, “It’s one of the few possessions he had when he first met me. When he left the Merry Men, he left it in my care. After we found you, he asked me to bring it along to Arendelle.”

“Why?”

“Well...it’s Arendelle craftsmanship, much like your necklace. I think he may be trying to find where it belongs as well.” Emma hummed, not entirely satisfied with the answer, but growing too tired to probe any further. She stretched with a yawn, which only caused Robin to laugh. “I think we’d best try to get some sleep.” A quick glance at Roland revealed that the boy had fallen asleep at Emma’s feet.

“Do you mind…” Robin began, gesturing towards the lower bunk, “I don’t want to wake him by carrying him to the top bunk.”

“Not at all.” Emma stood carefully, allowing Robin room to lay his son on the bunk. She expected him to climb in as well, but he straightened up and headed to the top bunk, leaving her a bit baffled.

“It’ll be easier for you to escape later from the bottom bunk,” Robin’s murmur floated down to her, though she could no longer see him. A little smile played on her lips as she crawled onto the bed beside Roland. The kid immediately rolled over to cling to her arm, and she was pretty damn sure that she didn’t want to ‘escape’ at all.

“Thanks,” She whispered, hoping Robin could tell just how sincere it was.

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After his tamperings with the carriage failed in killing in the princess, Rumplestiltskin had taken time to reconsider his plans. It was as clear to him now as it had been on that day on the ice- the princess had powerful magic, though it was entirely untrained. He had expected as much, of course. She was the product of True Love and that very magic she now unwittingly displayed was what he had wanted from her before his plans had fallen to pieces. He had been hoping that her lack of training and experience would keep her magic dormant, but it seemed that she could protect herself, even if she didn’t know she was doing so. If he tried something too heavy-handed, he had no doubt that she would find her way out of it. It made killing her a bit more difficult. It was a delicate situation, one which required a well-thought out plan. Fortunately for Rumplestiltskin, he was an expert at planning.

Once she had boarded the pirate’s vessel, things had only become more complicated. Rumple was well aware that his ‘foreign relations’ with the kingdom of Arendelle were tenuous at best. The sorceress Queen and her aunt were formidable opponents, enough so that he wouldn’t dare a direct strike against them- especially now that he knew Regina was alive and working with them. There was too much magic there. If he tried anything as basic as conjuring a tempest to drown the ship and all aboard, the witches would sense his magic in their waters and he had no doubts that there would be retribution. No, it was best if he could keep his magic confined to something small, something they would not notice along the borders of their kingdom. When his spying showed him the Jolly heading into an entirely natural storm, he saw, at last, his opportunity.

In his scrying glass, he saw the princess, tucked in bed, surrounded by her new comrades. She looked so safe, so peaceful. She was so blissfully ignorant of all the pain she had inflicted on him. Once, she had been at the center of all his plans. The Savior to break the Dark Curse that Regina was supposed to have cast. It had been so carefully orchestrated. All the pieces purposefully laid in place. With others taking care of the dirty work for him, he wouldn’t be the one to pay the price for the magic to get him to the new land. He was supposed to be there now, preparing to reunite with his son. Instead, the unthinkable had happened. The Evil Queen and Snow White had reconciled, forgiving and forgetting. At first, he had tried to salvage his plans- alternatively trying to destroy the growing bond between step-mother and step-daughter, and trying to find another means of travelling realms. When it became apparent that there was not others means to bring him to another realm which did not require sacrificing power or paying a steep price, he had turned his attentions to revenge. Years had gone to building an army of men and women desperate enough to make foolish deals. The coup was meant to be his moment of triumph, when he could take everything they had worked for, just as they had done to him. It would have worked, too, had the girl not interfered. Although he held their kingdom, the Royal Family still lived. And now, he was suffering while the little princess went off to be reunited with them- he was almost surprised that the hatred he felt wasn’t a tangible thing.

“Sweet dreams, dearie.” He snarled at the image before him, watching with perverse glee as she her sleep changed from peaceful to restless. If she was protected from outside events, he would just have to go within. After all, one’s mind could be a dark and dangerous place, especially in their dreams.

He looked forward to watching her die.

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The sun was shining, a gentle breeze kissed her cheek, and when she looked down she was wearing a simple, but fine summer dress. Okay, weird, was her first thought. She’d never worn a dress like it in her life- not that she could remember, anyway- or maybe she had. It seemed out of place on her, anyway, though she was not quite sure why.

“Emma!” A man’s voice called to her from just over a hill- so familiar and yet, she couldn’t place it. Somehow she felt she should know the face it belonged to. If she just went to the rise of that hill, she would be able to see him, and then it would all make sense. She set out up the incline, not realizing until she had started exactly how steep and slippery it was. More than once, she almost lost her footing and slid downwards, cursing her dress for catching in her legs. After a few moments, though, she crested the top.

The hill dropped in a short cliff, and spread out before her was a shimmering lake, bounded on all sides by an endless expanse of forest. She could sense, more than see, the palace sitting proud on a higher crest somewhere behind her. It was a looming shape in her peripheral vision which, she supposed, should have been imposing, but instead made her feel warm and safe. What kept her from turning her attention to inspect it fully were the figures dotting the lake below. A man with cropped blonde hair and friendly eyes waved his arms in greeting- her father. She felt her heart swell with love as she looked at him. And the woman next to him, her mother. Emma fixed her gaze on the woman, so like herself in features, but with long, dark hair. She tried to memorize every detail about her, although she was sure it wasn’t necessary. She was her mother, she saw her all the time.

“Come on in, Duckling. The water’s perfect!” Her father called, snapping her from her own thoughts. A grin split her face; he never would let go of that childhood nickname, no matter how old she became. She was certain she would be crowned Queen and he would still call her his little ‘duckling’. Sometimes it annoyed her, but on a summer day like this, it only made her realize how very loved she was. She waved at him enthusiastically, but hesitated on the ledge of the cliff. It wasn’t a very long drop, but she was unsure of the fall anyway.

“I never took you for the nervous type,” a sarcastic voice drew her attention over to the left. There, sitting under a tree that she had escaped her notice, was an elegant woman who looked as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Both her hair and clothing were darkly elaborate, giving Emma the same feeling as the palace. The woman was clearly someone not to be trifled with, but there was an underlying affection in her gaze that put Emma at ease. 

“I’m not nervous.” She wasn’t about to show any weakness in front of the woman, even though she had been silently contemplating a better way down to the water. A perfectly manicured eyebrow arched in her direction. It was a clear challenge if she had even seen one, and she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Turning back to the cliff, she took a step forward, but hesitated once more at the ledge. Everything was perfect, and yet something wasn’t right; something she had to figure out before she jumped.

As she thought on it, she could hear her parents calling more insistently, urging her on as if there were an emergency. That couldn’t be right though. What emergency could there be on a relaxing day like this? As if her thoughts had summoned them, dark clouds blotted out the sun and blanketed the landscape. Where had they come from? Rain followed quickly, thick sheets of it a rough replacement for the soft wind that had been encircling her only a moment before. Her parents shouts grew stronger, even over the noise of the storm. Facing them once more, she could see that her mother’s eyes, so like her own before, had turned red, and that her father’s kindly face had distorted into something unnatural.

Although her eyes were glued to the horror playing out before her, she took a step back, “No, no, no.” She muttered to herself.

She felt a presence at her elbow- the woman. Emma almost didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want the confirmation that everything had changed in such a short time. When she felt a hand land on her shoulder, she couldn’t keep her eyes away any longer. The woman was gone, replaced by a not-quite-human figure. A man who was not a man, whose skin shone a sickly green-gold and whose hands were more like claws.

“Jump, dearie,” He whispered in her ear, tightening his fingers against her as she tried to twist away.

“Who are you?” Of the thousand questions swimming in her mind, that was the one which fought its way to the surface.

“Rumplestiltskin, and it’s time I paid you back for what you did to me.” His words didn’t make sense, but it hardly mattered when he was tipping her towards the edge and no matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t break free. A voice drifted down to her on the wind, so familiar, so real, but she couldn’t quite make it out.

“Goodbye, Your Highness.”

“No!”

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She woke with a jerk, the rain still pattering against her skin and lightning flashing overhead- an arm still holding tight around her. For a moment, she continued her struggle before her mind realized who it was. Hook.

He was holding her by the gunwale of his ship, one arm tight around her waist and the other anchored to a rope. His voice whispered softly into her hair, “It’s alright. You’re safe. It was just a dream.” Questions still stirred within her, but relief overwhelmed them all and she allowed herself to sag into his embrace.

“It felt so real.” She whispered, trying to quell the maelstrom inside of her.

“I know, but it’s over now, love. It was just a dream.” She let herself be soothed for a moment, trying to let the vestiges of the nightmare fade away, but some things lingered. One thought in particular stuck in her mind like a bur and would not be shaken loose.

“Hook. Who is Rumplestiltskin and why would he hate me?” His soft embrace turned rigid instantly, and he slowly stepped away from her, keeping one arm around her shoulders.

“Let’s get you inside, love.” He applied gentle pressure to her back in an attempt to lead her away from the gunwale.

“Hook…”

He sighed and shook his head. “I’ll tell you what I can, once you are dry and warm.” She nodded, only then realizing exactly how soaked she was. Sticking close to his side- for warmth- she allowed him to lead her to the Captain’s quarters.

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Repeated, insistent shoves against his side and the anxious mantra of, “Uncle Killian, wake up!” drew he from the depths of slumber. Trying to remember just why he was on the floor in one of the crew’s cabins rather than in his own bed, he rolled over to look at his diminutive assailant.

“What is it, lad?” His voice was gravelly with the remnants of sleep, but he sat up nonetheless.

“Princess Emma! She’s gone!” Killian turned towards the lower bunk and found it was indeed empty. There were a number of reasons she might have gotten up in the middle of the night- not the least being that she sought the comfort of her own bed, but Roland seemed genuinely afraid for her safety. The lad was young, but he had already known loss, and if it soothed his fears, Killian would find her. With a sigh, he resigned himself to being awake until he located the stray Swan.

“I’ll find her, lad. You stay here- it’s not safe on deck right now.” He didn’t have any intentions of going above, himself, but he knew that the boy wouldn’t consider checking Emma’s cabin before venturing into the storm, so the warning was warranted. Killian took long strides down the hall, tilting dangerously as the waves rocked the ship. Swan’s cabin wasn’t far and, before long, he was knocking on her door and calling out for her. When no reply was forthcoming, he eased the door inwards and scanned the darkened chamber. The bed was empty, the sheets undisturbed by any recent occupants. His chest tightened- there was nowhere else on the vessel she had any reason to go so late at night. The ship heaved once more, throwing him heavily against the doorframe as he attempted to turn himself around. With more haste, and far less grace, than his previous walk down the hall- he made his way to the steep stairs leading above. What madness would lead her there in this tempest?

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, his sight further hindered by the sheets of rain. He peered off in every direction, trying to find some hint of her. A flash of golden hair- there! She was on the far side of the deck, standing perilously close to gunwale.

“SWAN!” He yelled, trying to make his voice heard over the roar of the storm. For a brief moment, he could see her turn her head towards him before she turned away once more. That quick glimpse told him all he needed to know, her eyes were still closed and she moved as if unaware of the chaos around her- somehow she was still asleep. His heart rammed itself against his ribs as he saw her begin to lift a leg to climb onto the side.

“Emma!” His voice was more desperate now, though he knew it was in vain. If the roar of the storm hadn’t woken her, his pleas would not. Quickly eyeing the rigging around him, Killian reached for a rope nearby, wrapped it twice around himself, and loosed it with his hook. The rope yanked him across the deck, bringing him to her side far sooner than if he had run the distance. As soon as he was near enough, he grabbed for her where she now stood with both feet on the gunwale and one hand holding the rigging beside her. She fought against briefly, not recognizing him for a friend, and he struggled to bring her back to the relative safety of the deck.

“Emma, please, love. Wake up.” His voice was desperate, but he didn’t care. He had almost watched her step off the edge of his ship and he wasn’t about to let any amount of wriggling pull her from his arms. The words seemed to calm her slightly and after a moment, he saw her eyes flutter open. Raw fear was obvious in them, the emotion entirely unguarded by the walls she normally put around herself, and it pulled at something deep within him.

“It’s alright. You’re safe. It was just a dream.” He wasn’t entirely sure whether he was trying to reassure her or himself, but the fight left her as the nightmare slowly withdrew its claws, and he was left holding her upright as she leaned her full weight against him.

“It felt so real.” He barely heard the whisper over the wind, and the smallness of it made his heart constrict. They had so much pain in their lives, why had it chosen to haunt her dreams too?

“I know, but it’s over now, love. It was just a dream.” Some bloody dream that could make her forsake the safety of her bed to throw herself from the ship. His arm rubbed her back gently though he longed to crush her to his chest, and he allowed them both a moment to collect their thoughts.

“Hook. Who is Rumplestiltskin and why would he hate me?” The Dark One’s name, so close on the heels of almost losing her, felt like a lightning strike to his heart. So few knew his true name- it was too powerful to be bandied about- where and when she could have heard it, he had no idea. The thought that the Dark One had anything to do with this moment shook him to the core. Carefully, he extracted himself from Swan’s arms, being certain to keep hold of her with one arm. He had no intentions of letting go of her until she was safe.

“Let’s get you inside, love,” he attempted to move her in that direction, but she remained stubborn. He should have known that she wouldn’t just drop it.

“Hook-”

He sighed, there was nothing for it but the truth. “I’ll tell you what I can once you are warm and dry.” She gave in then, shivering slightly against him. He directed her towards the Captain’s quarters, trying to sort out his own thoughts along the way. If the Dark One was involved at all, it didn’t bode well for their little venture. Surely, he would have no reason to target Emma though. He may have overthrown the Royal Family, but that didn’t seem like the kind of personal grudge that would carry through decades. He had his power, what else could he want from them? His animosity for Killian, however, that might be cause enough for the attack. Once more, it seemed he was trying to take someone Killian cared for it. He wouldn’t let it happen again. Not to her.

He followed her into his room, laid out dry clothing and a clean towel for her use, and quickly exited to allow her privacy. As much as he was loathe to let her out of his sight, he wasn’t about to make her uncomfortable just to ease his own worry. Simply standing outside the door waiting for her to call him back was giving him far too much time to sit with his own dark thoughts- the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that this was all his fault. It was hardly the time for self-flagellation, though. He needed to be sure that she was alright, and needed to do anything in his power to make her so if she was not. With that purpose in mind, he returned to Robin’s cabin, stealing in quietly and making for the small pile of blankets he’d left on the floor. As he approached, he noticed a small figure curled up on top of them. Roland. The lad had been so concerned for Emma, but it seemed exhaustion got to him in the end. Gently, with special care to keep his hook pointed away, Killian lifted the boy into his arms and deposited him on the lower bunk.

Turning to adjust to the new surroundings, the boy murmured, “Emma?” Though he wasn’t quite awake, Killian reached up to soothe his fingers through the boy’s curls.

“It’s alright, lad. She’s safe.” For now. He hoped. If the Dark One was involved, he couldn’t be sure of anything. The affirmation relaxed Roland though and his breathing evened out as his slumber deepened. After a moment, when it was clear that the boy wouldn’t wake again, Killian returned to the blankets, piling as many as he could carry over his arm. The least he could to do was ensure that she didn’t catch a cold after being soaked to the bone. Estimating that he’d given her enough time to change, he headed back to his quarters, only to find her tucked under the sheet in his bed, still awake, but clearly exhausted. The sight of her lying in his bed may have given him pause under other circumstances, but at the moment all he could think of was getting her shivers to cease. He laid one of the blankets he held across her and placed a second over her feet, should she want it later. Although it would have been better form to sit on the chair, a safe distance away, he perched on the edge of the bed- not wanting to crowd her, but not wanting to leave her side either.

“So, are you going to tell me?” Although the exhaustion was plain in her voice, it was outweighed by her determination to find answers. He sighed once more, entirely unsure of how he should begin. Swan’s hand moved from under the blankets to rest on his arm and he wondered what was written on his face that made her think to reassure him, when it should be the other way around. “Who is he?”

“His name…..well, it’s one I avoid saying if at all possible. Saying it tends to draw his attention, though I fear we may already have that.”

“Okay- we won’t say his name. Doesn’t really tell me what he’s got against me, though.”

Killian sighed, “He’s the Dark One. As for what he wants with you, I fear that may be my fault.” Her eyebrows raised to her hairline, and he wished he could summon even an ounce of the disbelief she was currently showing. Alas, he was entirely too convinced he was right.

“Why would it be your fault?”

“I’ve already told you much of our rather contentious history. It wouldn’t surprise me that he’d try to strike at me through you.” She turned to consider the ceiling, seemingly at a loss for words, and he took it as a dismissal. When he made to stand, however, her hand returned to his arm, gripping tighter this time.

“The Dark One overthrew the Royal Family.” It was a statement, but one that he couldn’t perceive the relevance of.

“Aye?”

“Why?”

“I don’t rightly know, lass. He was always a villain, but he’d never shown outright animosity to them before. Why are you asking?”

“I was just thinking.” He watched her eyebrows crease in concentration as she chose her next words, “I’m supposed to be the lost princess?”

“Aye.” Though she had phrased it as a question, Killian could see that she put more faith in the words than she had before. In truth, his own skepticism had lessened as well, though he wasn’t ready to believe it entirely. Even so, he was not sure what connection she was trying to make.

“Then he’s probably pissed that I’m even alive. So- maybe it’s not about you at all.” Again, he felt that their positions should be reversed, with him offering her some comfort instead of the other way around. He couldn’t deny her logic, though he doubted that the Dark One knew whether she was actually the lost princess. It was far more likely that he had somehow spied on their venture from the start, and chose to foil Killian’s little plot to get a strike against him. The thought wasn’t comforting at all. If their paths had never crossed, she would be safe from all of this. He had been able to convince himself that he was helping her- finding her a home and a family- but was the prize worth it when it put a target on her back? His thoughts drew him away, and he stood once more, only to be arrested by Swan again, her fingers shivering against his own.

“Stay?” She seemed so small and vulnerable, so much like Roland earlier that night. He hadn’t been planning on going far anyway, but it was something she had to hear to believe.

“Aye, love. I’ll be right here.” He indicated the floor by her- his- bed, with only a slight grimace for the thought of spending another night with unforgiving timber for a mattress.

“No.” Still holding his hand, she gave it a small tug, “Here.” His eyebrows jumped of their own accord, and he smirked to cover up how taken aback he was by the invitation.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me.” It was bluster, and they both knew it, but he was hoping that she would let the topic drop. A night by her side would likely be the sweetest form of torture, especially with his current ruminations, but he wouldn’t be able to deny her if she pressed the point.

“It’s cold,” He would have sworn she was shivering to prove her point, if only her skin were not quite so pale, “You’re warm.” He was lost. He shrugged out of his coat and boots, replacing them with a sense of resignation. There was little chance he would sleep at all tonight, but if it meant Swan slept well, it was a sacrifice he would- and could- make for her. Climbing into the small space beside her, he tentatively wrapped one arm around her waist, encouraged to hold a bit tighter when she snuggled closer to his chest. She hadn’t lied- she was still chilled, her long hair damp where it brushed against his arm. For a brief moment, he let go- ignoring her noise of protest- to grab the second blanket from where he’d left it, laying it over them both, and taking up his previous position. It was only a matter of minutes before she was asleep in his arms. He took the opportunity to memorize the curves of her face, so that by the time his own eyes slipped closed, her image remained.

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“I’m sorry,” Regina had the courtesy to look genuinely contrite as the door closed behind yet another blonde-haired young woman who was not their daughter, “I really thought that one might be her.” She sat down with a sigh, as frustrated by the ordeal as they were.

“Tell me again why we aren’t using blood magic to find her?” Charming was pacing by the fireplace, the lines in his face had grown deeper in the years following the coup and his hair was now tinged with grey around the edges.

Regina’s still-dark head gave an annoyed shake, as if she were trying to rid herself of a bug. They may be family- and they did care for each other- but the Prince still got on her nerves, especially at times like this. They had all been worn down to their last nerve; strung along as far as they could be on a thin hope.

“If we try to locate her using magic and she’s still somewhere in the Enchanted Forest, Rumplestiltskin will get to her long before we can.” There was no need to say what the Dark One would do if he got to the princess first, they were all well aware. His coup hadn’t been staged on a flight of fancy; he loathed the Royal Family. Instead of seeing the reconciliation of the Evil Queen and Snow White as cause for the celebration- as most of the kingdom had- he had only seen the utter destruction of his carefully laid plans. They had thought he had moved past it, however, when nothing was heard from him for years. It had been naive, but they were blinded by the happiness of being a family. The imp hadn’t forgiven or forgotten, he had merely been biding his time. After Emma had accidentally trapped him in an icy prison for months, they could only assume that his hatred had grown.

“Well, is there anything else we can try?”

“If there was, don’t you think I would have done it by now?” Regina snarled. It had been years of searching- at first in secret, when they still believed that it would be best if Rumplestiltskin thought them dead, and then openly asking for information to be brought forth. In all that time, they hadn’t gotten a single substantial clue about the fate of the missing princess and every time another lead proved false, they relived the pain of losing her. At first, they had tried to go back to her. Once the horses were calmed, which had taken far too long, they had traced their way back to the stables only to find Emma, the owner, and all the other occupants gone. Snow and Charming had been insistent on staying to search for their daughter, but Regina had known that staying would only put them at the mercy of the Dark One and his soldiers. There was no telling how long he would stay under the ice. None of them would be of any use to Emma or the kingdom dead, she’d said, it was better to flee and try to find the princess later. Had she known then how long it would take Rumplestiltskin to break free, and how fruitless their search would be, she would have held her tongue. For years, she had been interviewing potential princesses, or men who swore they knew her location, sorting through the blatantly false to save the Charmings a bit of heartache. Even with all her caution, she hadn’t been able to spare them enough. Too many times, they had gotten their hopes up only to be let down once more.

Snow, who had remained silent throughout the interview- as she had for the last several- turned her bright, broken gaze on both of them. “Maybe we should give up.”

Though her words were quiet, they had an immediate impact. Regina’s eyes snapped to her, and her husband rushed to kneel by her side, gathering her hand in his.

“Snow, no! We can’t give up when there is even a chance that she is still out there.” Despite his earnest pleas, Snow shook her head- looking older than her years with a permanent tiredness seated in her eyes.

“Charming, we’ve tried for so long and found nothing. I think it’s time we focus on taking back our kingdom.”

“We can do both.”

“Can we?” She met his gaze with disbelief. “Because so far, we have been so wrapped up in finding our daughter that we haven’t managed a single strike against Rumplestiltskin. We don’t even know if she’s still alive, and our people are suffering!” Despite the strength of her resolve, tears threatened to trace down her cheeks. She was the one pleading now- for an end to the pain and for an end to the helplessness she had been feeling for years. If she couldn’t get her daughter back, the least she could do was save her people from the monster who had stolen her throne. Seeming to contemplate this, Charming’s eyes stared off into the distance for a moment. Eventually, he nodded slowly, a new determination in his own eyes.

“Alright, let’s get our kingdom back.” Snow gave him a watery smile in gratitude, squeezing his hand before standing to take her leave. These interviews took so much out of all of them, and each more than the last. Once the door closed behind his wife, however, he pivoted to face Regina- a burning light in his gaze that had been lacking earlier.

“Keep interviewing potentials.”

Regina’s eyebrow raised, “You really want that?”

His response was delayed by the door opening once more, as young nurse cradling a small babe in her arms entered. With hardly a word, she crossed the room and placed the bundle into Regina’s waiting arms, exiting as quickly as she’d come.

Eyes still on the young boy, Charming picked up where they’d left off, “I want my child back.” His voice nearly broke, but the words were clear. Regina turned her own gaze towards the young boy in her arms. It was something she had never thought possible- having a child of her own. She had been much too close in age to Snow to truly be a mother to her and though she had been close to Emma, the princess had had her own parents to care for her. Motherhood was something she had always longed for, though, and after years of waiting for something- love or news of her step-granddaughter or a sign- she had decided it was time. The informants she retained in the Enchanted Forest told her of a young woman pregnant and in jail, and Regina knew she had her chance. She had made all the arrangements, grateful that the woman seemed to recognize the opportunity for the baby to live a better life- away from the Dark One’s influence. Now, lying quietly in her arms, Regina was certain that, if she lost Henry, she would never rest until she got him back. There may not be much she could connect with the Prince about, but this- this was something she understood.

Meeting Charming’s stare, she nodded once. “We’ll find her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented! You are all absolutely lovely! I'll try to keep posting these regularly, but work's a bit hectic, so it might take a little longer than the last few chapters- though I'll still try for one a week at least. The whole thing is planned out, and it should hit about 12 chapters (and possibly an epilogue, I've got a lot of headcanons for this world that I'd like to find something to do with)


	7. Chapter 6

For once in his life, Killian was actually relieved to be on land, if only because it meant they had reached the relative safety of Arendelle and were further from the Dark One’s grasp. Swan, it seemed, did not share the sentiment. She had begun pacing before they were even in sight of the port, making him worry that she might wear through the planks of his deck. After they disembarked, it had only grown worse. If they were walking, she fidgeted with her necklace, the fabric of her skirt, whatever she could reach, and when they weren’t walking, she tread a small circle around them in.

As they waited for Robin to return from inquiring about directions from a textiles merchant, Killian finally had enough. He reached out and laced his fingers between hers, effectively halting both her pacing and her fidgeting. Her body turned in towards his, but her eyes were locked on their interlocked hands for a moment before lifting with a raised eyebrow in clear question. To his surprise, the question was more of a ‘why the hell did you stop me?’ rather than a ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing?’, and he filed that fact away to be examined later.

“Swan, your circling is making me dizzy. Would you stand still for a moment?”

She scoffed and began shuffling her feet as if determined to prove that she could find ways to move even with him hindering her, but didn’t attempt to drop his hand. After a minute of this, she apparently realized how pointless the endeavour was and gave up with a slight slump of her shoulders.

“I’m nervous.” She admitted reluctantly, and Killian couldn’t help the small smile that slipped out.

“Aye. I’d worked out that much.” He shook his head fondly at her glare, but continued in a more serious tone, “You’ve nothing to be nervous about, love.”

Her glare seemed to morph- no longer conveying annoyance, but the very clear message that she thought he was being an idiot. She dropped his hand, only to raise her fist in front of his face, one finger extended. “What if Regina doesn’t like me?” Another finger joined the first, “What if I fuck up and use a salad fork instead of a cocktail fork?” A third, “What if I forget everything you and Robin taught me?” A fourth, “What if she realizes that I don’t actually remember anything?” A fifth- the fight left her voice and she seemed genuinely worried, “What if they are my family?”

Killian softened. He knew what it was like to want answers and to fear them at the same time. Slowly, he reached up and grabbed her hand once more, bringing it down to her side.

“If they don’t love you, Emma, they are fools.” He willed her to see the truth of his words in his eyes, and she did, indeed, seem captivated by them.

Probing the depths of his gaze, she asked, “Do you believe I’m the princess?”

Killian swallowed roughly, but refused to turn away. That question was one he hadn’t allowed himself to answer, even mentally, for a while now. He had convinced himself that it didn’t matter, so long as Emma found a home and he got his revenge. However, there had been so many little signs along the way, hints that she had been something other than an orphan in the years she couldn’t remember. His resolute belief that the real princess had died years before was wavering with every day he spent in Emma’s presence. If he accepted that she and the lost princess were one and the same, though, he would have to give up on the other small hope he had been trying so hard to ignore. A princess and a pirate were an unlikely pair. A princess and a pirate who used to be her kitchen-boy were an impossible one. He didn’t have enough proof yet for that possible truth to quash his latent hope.

“I’m not sure,” He answered honestly, “But if anyone could be the lost princess, it’s you.”

“You really think so?”

He nodded, “I do.” Finally, the eye contact became too much and he broke it with a duck of his head, “But, if Regina does not see that, you are quite welcome to join me aboard the Jolly. You would make a fine pirate.”

The teasing light in her eyes had him grinning, “A pirate princess, huh?” The words brought up images of her standing at the helm, golden hair streaming and eyes alight with happiness- and he longed for it. He shoved aside the desire to suggest they scrap the whole plan and sail away right then and there. As far as he knew, the Dark One was still after her, likely because of him. In Arendelle, they were under the protection of Regina, Elsa, and Ingrid, but if they went elsewhere, there was no telling what he would do. If they did manage to convince Regina that Emma was her step-granddaughter, the protection she had from the Dark One’s influence would only increase. She would be safe. Above all else, that was what Killian desired.

Although he opened his mouth to reply- some witty remark to mask the nature of his thoughts- his words were halted by the return of Robin and Roland. Their mission had been a success, and they had precise directions to Regina’s current residence. According to Robin’s intel, she had elected to live in a private- though elegant- home, rather than remaining in one of the castle’s many guest suites, as the Queen and Prince had done. The news didn’t come as a surprise to him, even after her reconciliation with Snow, Regina had always chosen to remain somewhat separate, if only out of habit.

Armed with the best local gossip could provide, they set their course. Out of the corner of his eye, Killian noted Swan once more twisting her fingers in her skirt. With fond exasperation, he stilled her movement again. He was pleasantly surprised when she immediately intertwined her hand with his, allowing them to remain that way as they wound their way through the city streets.

Leaning over so his lips were by her ear, he whispered, “It’ll be fine.”

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Robin, with Roland in hand, led their group to the door of what could only be described as a mansion. On the outskirts of town, it boasted a manicured lawn with a large central apple tree, and a colonnaded white facade- a residence truly befitting a former queen. The thief was beaming from ear-to-ear before even knocking on the door, his buzzing excitement a stark contrast to Emma’s rigid concern. Hardly giving them a moment to collect themselves, Robin rapped sharply on the door until a servant appeared.

The woman refused to open the door more than a crack, peering out at their little group with apparent distrust.

Robin cleared his throat and put on his most charming smile, “We’re here to see the Queen-Mother.”

“No.” The woman shook her head emphatically, not allowing the door to budge, “Her Highness will not be seeing any more-”

“Surely,” Robin interjected, “She could make time for an old friend.” A slight commotion was heard from the other side of the door, and an older woman, adorned in the most stylish fashion of the day, pushed the servant aside, seemingly in haste.

“Robin?!” The new arrival’s face morphed from a scolding look for her servant to one of utter shock and disbelief. Her eyes, so hard only a moment before, crinkled around the edges as they lit upon his face. Ah, so this is infamous Regina, Killian thought, keeping a careful eye on both her and his friend. Robin’s expression reflected the joy in Regina’s, with tears dancing on the edge of his lashes.

“Regina.” He exhaled the name on a soft breath, like it was something to be revered.

“I thought you were dead,” The moment became all the more intimate as Regina took a hesitant step forward, crossing the threshold from her stately home. Robin’s smile became something a little more poignant, and he raised his hand as if to brush her cheek- to assure himself that the moment was real- but halted just shy of touching her skin.

“And I, you.” The tears that had been threatening since the first moment she laid eyes on him, now rolled slowly downwards. Ignoring his raised hand, she took another step forward and threw her arms around him, laughing in shock and happiness. It took a moment for Robin to realize exactly what was happening, but when he did, he returned her embrace with vigor, letting his own disbelieving laugh join with her’s.

Killian had the distinct feeling that he was intruding on an extremely private moment. Swan clearly felt the same way, studiously looking anywhere but at the embracing couple. If they weren’t here on a rather pressing business, he might have thought it best to leave the pair alone for a proper reunion. He was fairly certain that if he, Swan, and Roland were to sneak away right then, their escape would go entirely unnoticed. Well, perhaps not Roland. Even now, the boy’s father was turning his head to find him. Carefully extracting himself from Regina, Robin nodded towards the lad with a small smile.

“Regina, I would like you to meet my son, Roland.” Her gaze snapped to the previously overlooked boy, confusion evident as her eyes darted quickly between father and son. For a moment, her lips parted as if to ask Robin for an explanation, but they shut just as quickly. Instead, she bent down to the lad’s eye level with a kindly smile and her hand extended.

“Hello, Roland, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Regina.” If Killian hadn’t known any better, he never would have assumed the woman before him to be the formerly-Evil Queen. Of all the stories he had heard of her, he had never expected to see her shaking hands with a child, despite Robin’s many assurances that she was largely misunderstood. Seeing her now, he could begin to understand what had drawn his mate to her in the first place. Despite an intimidating exterior, it was obvious that she had a heart that loved readily and deeply.

Straightening, Regina arched an inquisitive eyebrow at Robin, “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”

He nodded, “Aye, and we will. First, however, there is someone else I would like to introduce to you.” For the first time since they had arrived on Regina’s doorstep, Robin turned back to look at them. Killian dropped Emma’s hand, giving her a light push forward as Robin encouraged her with a nod.

“This is Princess Emma of Misthaven.” Swan curtsied low, as they had rehearsed, and avoided looking Regina directly in the eye. For her part, the Queen-Mother covered her initial surprise with a critical once over of the girl before her.

“Well, she certainly looks like the princess.” Emma lifted her head hopefully, “But so did the others.”

Something about the way the skepticism in Regina’s stare seemed to make Swan whither made Killian’s hackles raise. In a perhaps more aggressive tone than was strictly prudent when speaking to Royalty, he interjected, “Just speak with her.”

Regina’s attentions turned to him now, and it was immediately apparent that she hadn’t noticed his presence beforehand. If her expression didn’t convey to him just how unimpressed she was by his demand, her tone certainly did. “And who are you?”

Opting for a mockingly sweet smile, he swept into a low bow, keeping his stare locked to her’s. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

Her eyes trailed down his arm and caught on the glint of his hook. She accepted his introduction with a disbelieving little hum, aware that he was holding back.

“Regina, please.” Robin broke up the silent power struggle with a gentle hand placed in the crook of her elbow. Her entire demeanor immediately softened.

“Alright. I trust your judgement.” Turning to address Emma for the first time, she added, “You have one hour of my time. Try not to waste it.”

With that, she strode back into her home, leaving them to follow in her wake. Perhaps she still had more of the Evil Queen in her than Killian had originally thought.

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Killian rolled his eyes as Regina asked yet another pointless question- which Emma answered flawlessly. He had vacated his place on the settee in favor of leaning against the mantle about twenty minutes ago; at the time he had rather hoped that the movement would call attention to just how long this interrogation was dragging on. It was a naive hope, apparently. The Queen-Mother was nothing if not thorough- going so far as to ask how Swan took her tea, and not because she was offering her any. The answer had been that she didn’t like tea, but preferred hot chocolate with cinnamon. It wasn’t a point they had trained her on, but Regina didn’t outright turn her away, so Killian assumed that the question had been more to scare Emma than because the Queen-Mother had memorized her step-granddaughter’s drinking preferences. Every point they had trained her on had come up in the initial hour Regina had promised them; the last forty minutes had been things that neither Robin nor he would have known or thought to teach her about. Everything from her food preferences to her favorite type of flower. His hair must be a mess now from the number of times he’d run his hands through, absolutely certain that all their planning was about to fall apart at any moment, terrified of how Swan might take it if it did. She, however, didn’t seem to share his concerns. For the entirety of the interview, she perched primly, straight-backed, hands interlaced, on the edge of one of the plush armchairs, meeting each question with the same polite interest and restrained eagerness. From the moment Regina had begun her questioning, she seemed to relax, all the nervous energy from earlier dissipating- or perhaps just transferring over to him.

Finally, there was a lull. Regina’s brows furrowed as she clearly attempted to dredge up some other inane details she could question Swan about. A small spark flickered to life in her eyes, and her scrutiny turned to the young woman before her. Killian gulped- her look was one of a predator about to go for the kill.

“Forgive me if this seems indelicate, but how did you escape the palace that day, when the Dark One attacked?”

Killian nearly groaned. Why hadn’t he thought to tell her that? He knew how the princess had gotten out; was possibly the only person outside the Royal Family who knew that secret. Of course it would be the best proof that Emma was the princess. He buried his head in his palm, wishing he could close off his ears as well. He wasn’t sure whether Swan would attempt to make something up- though he was already well acquainted with the fact that she was a rubbish liar- or whether she would tell the truth, that she had no memories, thus revealing that everything she had answered previously- for the most part- had been learned by rote. All was silent in the room for a moment, and he could almost swear that he heard her fiddling with her swan pendant- a habit she had when she was deep in thought.

“There was...there was this boy…” Killian stilled, not even daring to breath. She couldn’t know. There was no way for her to know. “He opened a door....in the wall.” His head snapped up and his eyes locked on her, but she was still gazing towards Regina.

She was the princess.

He didn’t know how they had bloody managed it, but they had gone and found the actual lost princess to play the part for their con. Which wasn’t a con at all now. She was the actual princess. The Royal Family was her family. Swan had finally found the home she so wanted; her parents would once more be reunited with their beloved daughter. The kingdom would rejoice. Killian felt his heart swell just a little bit at the thought. She would be happy, and loved the way she deserved to be. And none of it had to be a lie. She was the princess!

And he- he was just a pirate, and a pirate had no place in a princess’ life, especially not in her heart. She would be reunited with her family, Robin would start over with Regina, and he would return to his solitary life on the seas. He would perhaps be a fond memory for her, a colorful character in her tale of adventure. Her life would go on to bigger and better things- all things that she was more than deserving of- and his would fade back to what it had always been. The joy of a moment before was swiftly replaced by the acrid taste of bile.

Vaguely, he registered Regina embracing Swan. Some words drifted through his haze about a ball the following evening and meeting the Prince and the Queen. He left the women to the excitement of planning, excusing himself to find solitude and fresh air. Once outside, he filled his lungs with gulping breaths, trying to calm the racing of his heart. He idly toyed with the idea leaving then and there; forgetting the reward money, and just taking his ship to far distant waters. He couldn’t build any enthusiasm for the plan though, and he knew it was because even now, when he was accepting that he could never have Emma the way he wanted, he would never abandon her without saying goodbye. She’d had too much of that in her life, even if, as now seemed the case, she had been wanted the entire time. He would not add to her pain if he could help it.

At that moment, a blonde blur came flying through the door, nearly knocking him down as it crashed into his arms.

Close to his ear, he could hear her unrestrained laughter, “Killian, we did it! I’m going to meet them tomorrow night!” The sound of his name on her lips, spoken in such a moment of happiness, was enough to make his heart swell all over again. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he’d become an absolute fool for this woman.

Chuckling back, he lifted her off the ground and spun her around, eager to prolong her celebrations. “You were brilliant, love.”

When he set her back on her feet, he finally caught a glimpse of her face. It was absolutely radiant, her smile wide and her eyes sparkling. “Regina said she’s going to take us all shopping.”

“Shopping?” Killian was sure he’d missed a step in their conversation somewhere. He had no idea how shopping was supposed to relate to her newfound family.

“She said we all need new clothes so we don’t embarrass her at the ball tomorrow night.” She rolled her eyes, and he found the gesture even more endearing when it wasn’t directed at something he’d said or done. Even so, he raised his eyebrows at the words.

“All of us?”

“Yup. I have to wear a fancy gown, corset and all. So you, buddy, have to wear something not made of leather.” Killian had the good sense to overlook the mention of her in a corset and instead focused on the insult to his personal style.

“Swan, you know quite well I’m devilishly handsome in leather. Why would I need anything else?”

“Hey- I don’t mind the leather.” He smirked, “but Regina seems to think it might be a bit out of place at a Royal Ball.”

“Aye, that it may be. So where is our Evil Queen, if she is as eager as you say to acquire new wardrobes for the lot of us?”

Swan blushed a little and side-eyed the home behind them, “I gave her and Robin a moment to talk…” Killian’s eyebrow jumped again, this time eying the house with interest. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the Queen-Mother and Robin were doing very little talking, and he was certain Swan was equally aware of it. Roland had been relegated to the upstairs nursery- an odd inclusion for a notoriously single woman’s home, but one he hadn’t pondered upon- which had left the adults to have their long interrogation session in private. Now, however, it seemed that privacy was being put to far better use.

“Ah, this might take a while then,” He was beginning to review all the things that could happen while he was alone with Emma, alongside a list of things that should not happen because she was the princess.

Surprisingly, Emma shook her head, “I doubt it, Regina didn’t seem very fond of what Robin was wearing either.” Sure enough, it was only a moment or two later when the pair stumbled out the door, both a bit rumpled, but with matching soft smiles and gleaming eyes. Killian had to admit that Robin already looked much happier than he had seen him in a long time.

Smile lingering, Regina put a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder, “Well, Miss Swan, I think it’s time you looked the part of a princess.” Killian couldn’t help but roll his eyes, it didn’t matter if she wore rags, Emma was always stunning. The small smile and excited glint he saw on her face, though, brushed aside his cynicism. If it meant seeing more of that smile, he was more than ready to spend the day shopping with the formerly Evil Queen.

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Being an orphan and a criminal, Emma had rarely had the chance to go shopping; and she had never had the luxury of indulging in a shopping spree, which was the only term she could think to define the afternoon. When they had entered the predictably opulent shop of Regina’s favored tailor, they had nearly been ushered right back out with mutters about ‘trouble-makers’ and ‘dirty’. She supposed the trouble-makers part was fairly accurate, given her, Robin, and Killian’s combined history, but she felt the dirty part was entirely uncalled for. Though travelling through the woods hadn’t allowed them many opportunities for hygiene maintenance, they had taken turns bathing before disembarking the Jolly. From what she could tell of the Queen-Mother so far, they would have been turned away at the door if they hadn’t, even with Robin there.

The judgmental little man who had been herding them towards the door drew up abruptly when he finally noticed Regina bringing up the rear of the group. It seemed Her Highness usually had the tailor around to her home to wait on her, rather than coming to the shop, and Emma might have pitied the man’s stunned expression had he not been so rude only a moment before. As it was, she figured it served him right. Her satisfaction only grew when the tailor and his assistants sprung into action, whisking her off to be measured, and asking her endless questions about her preferred styles and colours and fabrics. Most of these were answered promptly by Regina, not that Emma minded; she wouldn’t have had a clue where to begin. She withstood the poking and prodding, taking some comfort in the thought that Killian, Robin, and even Roland were going through the same treatment elsewhere in the shop.

She had been expecting to try on a ballgown or several, to find something for the following evening. What she hadn’t anticipated was Regina asking the tailor which dresses he had which could be made to fit her that day, as well as what he could make for her to wear the following evening. There was even mention of new pajamas, which Emma tried to protest, but Regina insisted that she wouldn’t have guests sleeping under her roof while looking like vagabonds. Until then, Emma hadn’t even been aware that she’d been invited to stay with her. If there was something she had discovered about the woman, though, it was that she covered her kindness with sharp words and pointed glances, as if she feared any sort of open gratitude. Despite her critiques, Emma didn’t fail to notice that Regina purchased any dress that she showed even the slightest inclination towards. Hidden though it may be, Emma could see that hope in Regina’s eyes; the hope that Emma was the missing step-granddaughter she had spent years searching for.

While Emma understood objectively, of course, that Regina’s approval did not necessarily mean she was the lost princess, she couldn’t help but let the other’s woman belief bolster her own. All those little moments along her journey were adding up to something she couldn’t ignore. She may not have thought she was the lost princess when all of this started, but there were too many coincidences to explain away now. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she would come face to face with the Queen and the Prince tomorrow only to be turned away, but it was a risk she knew she had to take. It wasn’t even that she cared about being Royalty; her parents could have been peasants for all it mattered, but the idea that she could finally have a family who loved her- so much so that Regina was affectionately spoiling her on even the chance she was her step-granddaughter- was more than she had thought she would ever have in her life. This was everything she had dreamt of every lonely night spent in the orphanage, ballgowns or no. Whatever tomorrow brought, she owed it to herself to see it through.

When even her unusually high spirits began to flag and her stomach resorted to grumbling its protest, the shopping session finally drew to an end. Emma emerged from her fitting area in a new dress of the Arendelle fashion- a loose, flowing skirt patterned in pale creams, greens, and golds hit mid-calf, and an embroidered corset top, not worn overly tight so as to allow for ease of movement, hugged her curves. It was by far the nicest dress Emma had ever worn, even if Regina said it was only ‘casual’. The gown for the following evening would be far more elaborate. She did feel a small twinge of sadness to be out of the dress Killian had given her, though, and she had ensured that it was sent back to the house, rather than thrown out, as Regina would have preferred.

Her eyes found Killian’s and the smile there told her that he was more than alright with her change of outfit. For her part, she couldn’t find a thing to complain about with his new gear. It seemed that he had coerced the tailor into giving him something as near his usual wear as possible. Though he now wore an overcoat in the fashionable aristocratic cut, it was still made of dark leather, embossed with a quilted pattern. His usual dark waistcoat had been replaced by one of a deep maroon, which somehow only highlighted the blue of his eyes. As happy as she was today, she couldn’t muster any of her usual indifference towards him. The man was attractive, and from the way he was smirking while she looked him over, he was more than aware of it.

“See something you like, Swan?” He asked with a failed attempt at a wink, which he somehow made adorable, despite its ridiculousness. While he may be right, she wasn’t about to feed his ego.

Avoiding the question entirely, she turned to address Regina, “Any chance we could get some food?”

The woman was pulled from her own thorough contemplation of Robin, who now wore a dark sleeveless doublet over a loose white shirt. “Of course. I had intended to show you around the city a bit more, but we’ll have to drop Roland back at the house.” With a soft look at Robin, she added, “Wouldn’t want to keep him up past his bedtime.”

Robin returned her grin and offered his arm, “Shall we, then?” Emma shared a secret smile with Killian at the blatant affection between the pair. If anyone deserved that sort of happiness, though, it was Robin, so she held back her teasing comments and instead took Killian’s arm to follow them out.

As it turned out, there was a festival going on that night- part of the same celebrations as the ball. Regina had refrained from mentioning the event in front of Roland, knowing the kid would have wanted to join them, even though the shadows were already growing long as the evening settled in. Leaving the boy in the care of Regina’s servants, the adults made their way to the central square of Arendelle. Vendors had arranged al fresco seating along the edges of the open space, leaving the center free for dancers, who kept time to a the music drifting from the band on the far side. Emma had to admit it was lovely. Under the rule of the Dark One, such displays of frivolity had been banned in the Enchanted Forest. It was nice to see normal people laughing freely and enjoying their lives. There had been far too little of that where she’d come from.

Emma wasn’t sure how they chose their seats, though she assumed it was at Regina’s direction; she was far too distracted watching the whirling, fast-paced movement of the dancers across the cobbles. It was nothing like the waltz Killian had taught her on the Jolly; it was more fluid, more wild. She appreciated the controlled beauty of the waltz, but this was vibrant. Part of her longed to join in, but her stomach was still muttering about its lack of food, so she waited. Fortunately, she didn’t have to tear her attention away to order, as Regina chose everything for them. It was a move she normally would have found rude and presumptuous, but right now, she didn’t mind. Part of her realised it was Regina’s way of making sure they all had the best there was to offer- even if it was only what she thought was best. With the energetic beats bouncing through the air and the delicious wafts of freshly cooked meals, Emma could hardly contain her smile. She probably looked like a fool, gaping at everything around her, but she didn’t care. It was all so alive!

Feeling eyes on her, she turned her attention back to the table, only to see Killian gazing at her intently, his own eyes far more serious than their surroundings warranted. For a moment, she thought he might be judging her for being so openly curious, but just as her smile faltered, his lips quirked upwards. She managed to turn it into a full-blown smile when she let her grin return in force, noting just how handsome he looked when he was genuinely happy. It was a look she could get used to.

The arrival of food cut that train of thought off before it ever properly began, and her stomach overtook her brain for the next few moments. Once she had eaten her fill, she sat back in her chair, sipping wine, and watching the dancers once more. She was surprised when Robin led Regina to join them, but then, he had said he was saving a dance for her. Emma shared a laugh with Killian when she discovered that neither Robin and Regina were very good dancers or, rather, they were far too wrapped-up in each other to remember what they were supposed to be doing. Every once and while, the pair would recall themselves, look around to see what others were doing, and attempt to mimic it while barely containing giggles. Emma had never thought she would see the Evil Queen giggle, but then, her perception had been based off rumours and reputation. The actual woman was far more than what the stories had told.

Briefly, Emma toyed with asking Killian to dance, but a part of her whispered that if he had wanted to do so, he would have asked her already. She had just contented herself with observing the celebrations when a man emerged from the crowd, well-dressed and handsome enough, and politely bowed before her to request her accompaniment. Delighted with the opportunity, she agreed without even so much as a glance at Killian. Yes, if she was being honest with herself, she would admit that she would prefer to be dancing with him, but she wasn’t about to deny herself just because of that.

The steps came naturally, and Emma let herself be carried away with the swells and dips of the song. For once in her life she felt light and free. She went from one partner to another to yet another, hardly noticing the transition. The only constant throughout the dance was the feeling she had of being watched by a particular set of ocean-blue eyes. Spinning as she changed partners once more, Emma was startled to find she crashed into the owner of those very same eyes. He didn’t say anything as he began to move her to a new, slower beat with the firm press of his hook against the base of her spine. His eyes never left her’s, the look in them deep and intense, but not harsh. The emotions there were as deep as the sea, and she could hardly put a name to them. The giddiness she had felt only a moment before calmed into something both stronger and more gentle. It was a sense of peace and happiness and right that she felt to her core.

Killian had done so much for her. Yes, he had been trying to scam her and the Royal Family when this had all begun, but then, she had been willing to let him just to get a free ride to Arendelle. As time went on, though, she saw more of the man behind the lothario, pirate persona. He had shared with her, encouraged her to learn to protect herself, protected her when she could not, and never asked for anything in return. Above all else, he had been honest with her. Not at first, of course, but when she had questioned whether he believed she was the princess, he hadn’t told her what he thought she’d like to her. He had been honest; something which had been all too rare in her life. It occurred to her, then, that there was something she needed to do.

“Killian,” she wasn’t sure why his given name came more naturally than his moniker now, but she didn’t think on it, “I want to thank you.”

Predictably, his eyebrow ticked up, “For what, love?”

“For bringing me here, for teaching me to swordfight and to dance…for helping me find my home.” Those intense eyes softened as they considered her.

“Of course, Swan. I’m happy to help.” There it was again- that beautiful, raw honesty.

She didn’t stop to consider her next move; just slide her hand from his shoulder to the lapel of his jacket and tugged him forward. Her lips met his with a jolt, and she continued pressing forward- wanting him to feel everything she couldn’t say; all the gratitude, happiness, trust, and something….more. It took him to a moment to respond, but when he did, it was with equal fervor, his tongue swiping along her lips and encouraging them open. His hand wove its way into her hair, tilting her head just enough to give him control. She was more than happy to let him, to show him how much she trusted him, though she couldn’t express it in words. They only parted to catch their breath, each drawing back only far enough to do so while resting their foreheads together. He seemed about ready to chase her lips for more, and she was about to let him, but another dancing couple bumped into her, sending them both stumbling backwards.

Killian caught her arm, and they straightened, blushing and chuckling slightly.

“You alright, love?”

Emma wasn’t sure if he was talking about the trip or their kiss, but she nodded anyways. “You?”

“Never better.” He didn’t quite meet her eye as he said it, and Emma felt something twist inside her. He was lying, but she couldn’t tell why. Had he not wanted to kiss her? Had she been reading things all wrong? She was going to question him on the point, but Regina and Robin chose that moment to interrupt. Apparently, the amorous, newly-reunited lovers were eager to return home, and Emma found that she couldn’t begrudge them for it. Agreeing readily, and following them away from the square, she felt Killian’s hand intertwine with her’s, squeezing gently. She didn’t turn to him, but smiled softly, returning the pressure. Maybe she didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for tonight at least, she could let him keep his secrets. She was content being here, with him by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all the encouraging comments and thanks to everyone who has been reading it! This was a tough chapter to write (though I love getting to add a bit of Outlaw Queen), and it isn't my favorite. Next chapter will have a bit more action, since we are getting to the part where all the shit goes down :)


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my lovely people, it's time for a bit of angst. There is a lot more overlap between Emma and Killian's perspectives in this chapter. I was trying to show both the parallels and differences in their thought processes, so hopefully that comes across. Thanks for sticking with me!

Killian was brooding; he was well aware of that. He felt entitled to it, though. In just a few moments, the carriage bearing Emma and Regina would arrive, and they would all enter whatever lord’s house for the ball, where Emma would meet her parents. His fingers drifted across his lips lightly, trying to recall what it felt like when her’s had pressed there only the night before. That kiss had been a revelation. He hadn’t thought he would be able to love again, not after Milah, but with Emma it might have been possible. That is, if she wasn’t a princess about to be restored to her proper station. He sighed and slumped further towards the stone steps he sat on.

“Why so glum, chum?” Of course, Robin would stick his nose in where it didn’t belong.

“She’s the princess,” he muttered, more to the ground than to his friend.

Joining him on the cool stone, Robin leaned in to hear him better. “Come again?”

Killian shook his head in annoyance, but turned to face him nonetheless. “Emma is the lost princess.”

Robin looked perplexed, “Of course, she is. We’ve trained her-”

“No,” Killian interjected, “She is the princess. When she spoke of the servant boy opening a door in the wall…” His gaze turned back to the ground, feeling more vulnerable than he would like, “that was me.”

“Oh,” Surprise laced Robin’s voice, and Killian glanced up to judge his reaction. Baffled would be the best word to describe it, he thought. Robin seemed to be at a complete loss for words, while hundreds of thoughts and questions swam behind his eyes. Shaking his head as if to clear them all away, he continued, “That’s wonderful! That means our Swan has found her family! We have found the heir to the throne of Misthaven!”

Killian couldn’t help but smile bitterly, at that. “Yeah, it seems we have.”

Ever an observant friend, Robin’s excitement was instantly tempered by Killian’s tone. “And you?”

“I’ll take the reward money and sail away, just like I always planned.” Robin made as if to protest, but Killian stayed him with a raised hand, “Princesses don’t fall in love with kitchen boys.”

“But-” Whatever Robin was about to add was cut off by the arrival of the women’s carriage. Killian jumped to his feet, rushing over to offer his hand as they stepped down, eager to ignore whatever well-meant encouragement was about to be offered. He knew that Robin had his best interests at heart, but he was already sure of what he had to do. He was going to have to let Emma go- to let her live the life she had always dreamed of- and no amount of talking about it was going to make that any easier.

Summoning a smile came naturally with Emma standing in front of him, her gown hidden under a long, thick cloak, and anxious eyes contemplating the mansion doors.

“You ready for this, love?” He whispered near her ear. The hint of a challenge in his words had the desired effect: her back straightened, her mouth drew into a determined line, and her hand clasped firmly around his upper arm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” His smile softened at her courage. As bittersweet as the evening may be for him, every ounce of happiness it brought to her would make it worthwhile.

“Then let’s go meet your family, Swan.”

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Killian’s steady presence beside her was torn away as soon as they walked into the entry hall; somebody grabbed him to ask about invitations or something like it, and he ushered her along to the servant taking cloaks at the end of the hall. She went with only slight hesitation, sensing that it would once again be a situation that only Regina’s presence would sort out. Sure enough, as she shrugged out of her cloak, she looked back to see Killian staring at her, the servant apparently pacified by the arrival of Robin and Regina. What really caught her attention though, was the way Killian seemed to be absolutely stunned by her appearance; his jaw hanging slack and his blue eyes glazed. Although she raised her eyebrows in feigned annoyance, she silently thanked Regina for choosing this gown.

The Queen-Mother had insisted that this style was exceedingly popular in Arendelle, pioneered by Queen Elsa herself. A strapless, long, navy sheath hugged her curves more closely than was practice in the Enchanted Forest, and a sheer, sparkled cape swept out behind her. The outfit was completed with long white gloves and a glittering tiara atop her tied-up hair. Even she had to admit, when she’d first seen herself in the mirror, that she looked like a princess. That was the whole point, of course. Regina had planned it all. It made her feel a little less of an imposter. After all, if she could look the part, maybe there was some truth to it. Overall, she did believe it, but there was still that small whispering in her head, warning her that it was too good to be true.

Killian shook his head, emerging from whatever trance she put him under, and nearly ran to her side.

“Swan, you look-”

“I know,” she smirked as he took her hand with a bow. In truth, he didn’t look bad himself, though she did prefer him in leather. The black-trimmed, bronze overcoat gave him the appearance of royalty himself, and she noted with interest that he wore black gloves- one over a prosthetic hand in place of his hook. Predictably, though, he had ignored the top buttons of both his white shirt and his black waistcoat, leaving his chest hair on display.

“So what’s the plan?” She asked, trying to reign in her wandering mind, as they stepped towards the doors to the main hall.

“Well, Regina said she would find out where the Queen and Prince were, and would come get us when it was a good time to approach them. Until then, I suppose it would be best if we tried to enjoy the party.”

She nodded, turning away from him to look at the ballroom and stopping in her tracks as she did so. Never in her life had she seen anything so ostentatious. Women were being twirled around the floor in dresses that gleamed like precious jewels, with actual jewels adorning their necks- and wrists and fingers and ears and hair. Food was neatly piled on long tables to one side, with one whole table devoted to chocolate. Round tables surrounded with comfortable-looking chairs stood before the food tables, separating them from the dancers and providing a convenient place to rest. The thought struck her that the riches in this room alone would be enough for her to live on for the rest of her days. This definitely wasn’t the place for an orphan from the streets, even if one who had dressed the part.

Killian picked up on her change of her mood and tightened his fingers around her’s where they lay on his left forearm, drawing her attention back to him. “You alright, love?”

Suddenly her thoughts were thrown back to last night- their kiss and his lie- which was another thing she didn’t want to think about right now. She didn’t want the time to think about any of it, and she found herself wishing that Regina would come get her right now, so she could get it over with. Quick and painless.

With that in mind, she decided that dancing was out of the question. She wanted to be easily accessible and ready to go when it was time. Her stomach was fluttering a bit too much to make food the best idea, so she headed towards the chairs instead, Killian following her without protest. She had barely touched the cushion when she decided, queasy stomach be damned, she needed something to do with her hands, and eating chocolate would be a good enough distraction. When she returned to her seat with a small plate overflowing with pastries and candies, Killian raised an eyebrow in surprise, but wisely chose to remain silent.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************

Of course, he and Emma had to enter the hall first and of-bloody-course the doorman would stop him to ask about their invitation. He sent her ahead to have her cloak taken, staying to deal with the situation, although he was well aware that the only thing which would sort out the issue was Regina’s presence. He bided his time half-heartedly attempting to charm and coerce the man, wondering what was delaying the couple, deciding he didn’t want to know, and becoming increasingly disaffected with the whole ball idea.

The moment Robin and Regina arrived, Killian left them to deal with the tediously scrupulous man; stepping away to find Swan. It didn’t take long to locate her, standing at the far end of the hall, shrugging her cloak into the arms of a servant. The movement revealed the pale expanse of her shoulders and collarbones, followed by a darkly contrasting gown which hugged her every curve. His mouth went dry and his body temporarily forgot how to move. She was an absolute vision. She was always attractive, of course, but tonight she looked like an angel. She was….staring at him with a quirked eyebrow and obvious amusement.

He shook himself from his stupor, ducking his head to hide the blush creeping up his neck, and hurried his pace over to her.

Attempting to recover his usual swagger, he tried a flirty, “Swan, you look-” but found that the words wouldn’t come.

She seemed entertained by his flustered state, smirking as she replied, “I know.” He couldn’t hide his grin then, something about her confidence relaxing him. When he noticed she was subtly eyeing him up and down, lingering more than necessary on the open ‘v’ of his neckline, his ego recovered completely. It was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one enjoying the views this evening.

If he hadn’t been playing close attention, he might have missed the quick succession of blinks that signalled her transition to a more important focus.

“So, what’s the plan?” She asked, as she threaded her arm through his and they moved towards the ballroom.

He thought back to that afternoon. Emma had been dragged off to begin preparing for the evening and Regina had confessed to him that Snow had called off the search for her daughter only days ago. While she reassured him that she believed Emma was who she claimed, and that Charming still had hope, Killian couldn’t help but feel a little more uneasy about the whole affair. She had assured him that, though the Prince and Queen usually remained secluded from the main party, she would locate them and find time for an interview. Until then, they waited.

He relayed as much to Emma, watching closely for her reaction. Her gaze shifted from when he mentioned the party, as if she had forgotten that there was anything else going on that night other than meeting her family. As her eyes lit upon the lavishly-dressed guests and apparent wealth of their surroundings, they widened with wonder, her mouth falling slack. His thoughts were thrown back to that night years before when he was still a kitchen boy and she the princess. She had been born to this life- this luxury. Back then the over-abundance of food and jewellery wouldn’t even turn her head. She had run through the room without a thought for the propriety of her actions or the status of those around her. Even as a child, she had seemed a ray of true sunshine amidst candles- striving to imitate her light, though they could never compare. It was the same even now; she didn’t so much stand out as above those around her. A true princess.

He noticed her expression darken, walls slamming into place behind those emerald eyes. Glancing back out at the crowd, he could guess what had caused it. Those times as a kitchen boy when he had been able to glimpse into this world, he had been so sure he could never be a part of it. An orphan and a street rat was hardly fit for such glamour- and that was all she remembered being. He might know that she belonged here more than any other person in the room, but she did not.

He debated whether to tell her everything he knew right then, but quickly decided against it. From what Regina had told him, there was a chance that they would not be received well by the Queen later. That would only be harder for Emma if she knew that the monarch was actually her mother. A small part of him whispered that it was because he wanted to spend a little more time with her as just Emma, not the princess. He wasn’t ready to see the change in how she looked at him.

Either way, he chose to leave it at a simple question: “You alright, love?”

She seemed thrown by the question, but didn’t answer. Instead, she kept a tight hold of his arm and pulled him along as she made for the tables off to one side of the dance floor. He followed in silence, willing to go where she led. It was abundantly clear that her nerves were already getting the better of her, and he wasn’t about to make them any worse by pushing her. She just needed a bit of time to think things through for herself- and apparently eat.

His eyebrows shot up when she propelled herself out of her seat as soon as she’d sat down, beelining towards the dessert table. She surely would have noticed his amused smirk when she returned with a plate piled with mostly-chocolate confections, had she been inclined to look at him. Instead, her eyes began a constant scan of the crowd and the various entryways, as her pale fingers curled around the nearest treat and raised it thoughtlessly to her mouth. Every so often, he snuck his hand out to pluck something off her plate, just to see how focused she really was. She didn’t notice even once.

He took the opportunity to study her in detail, trying to memorise the way the candlelight played on her hair and the small wrinkles that formed on her brow when she was worried. He was all too aware that it may be the last chance he ever had the leisure to do so. With Milah, he had found that the little details he had so loved about her began to fade from memory alarmingly quickly, no matter how much he fought to hold onto them. He had often found himself wishing that he had spent more time committing those things to his mind, so that no amount of time could wear them away. Now, he tried to do just that with Emma; to keep her in his mind- as perfect as she was in this moment- even if he could not keep her by his side. Privately, he wished this moment would stretch on for eternity.

When he noticed her reaching for a treat from the now-empty plate, he decided he had kept his mouth shut long enough. Her happiness and comfort was more important than his selfish desire to be close to her. She was moving to stand when his hand stilled her motion, capturing her attention.

“They’re going to love you.” He willed her to feel the truth of his words. She was their daughter- the lost princess, who they had spent years searching for- there was no chance they would do anything else. And she was so much more. She was Emma. There was nothing about her they wouldn’t love.

At his words, she fell back into her seat, pouting adorably. “I don’t belong here, Killian. This- it isn’t me. I’m an orphan, not a princess.”

How this amazing woman could not see herself the way he saw her, he would never know. All he could do was finally reveal the truth and hope that it would give her the confidence she currently lacked.

Gathering his courage, he tilted her chin to face him, and forced out the words, “Emma, you are the princess.”

He knew she could tell that he wasn’t lying, but she looked at him with shining disbelief anyways. He also knew that she didn’t doubt him so much as herself in this moment.

“How are you so sure?” The simple question, spoken in such a quiet and scared voice, was exactly what he had been fearing since the day before. It was time for him to reveal his role in everything; to tell her both that he had helped her family escape, only for her to be lost, and that he hadn’t truly believed she was the princess until she recalled that. He assumed she wouldn’t take the second part well. After all, they had been growing closer over the last couple of weeks, and he had still been planning to use her as part of a con.

Covering his uncertainty, he bowed his head and attempted a smile. The explanation died on his tongue when Regina’s hand landed on Emma’s shoulder. Swan beamed up at the older woman- excited energy radiating off of her. Killian wished he could summon even an ounce of that, but all he could find was dread as he rose to his feet to follow the ladies through the hall.

******************************************************************************************************************************************

The minutes stretched on as Emma shovelled the food into her mouth- ignoring all proper etiquette protocols, but remembering to remove her white gloves to avoid stains. Her eyes travelled restlessly over the crowd, never landing anywhere for more than a moment- alternately watching the dancers or searching every doorway for a sign of Regina. She could feel Killian’s concerned gaze on her the entire time, which didn’t really help matters, though she steadfastly pushed all non-platonic thoughts of him to the back of her mind. When her hand found an empty plate instead of an eclair, she was ready to re-stock on treats, but a hand on her arm kept her from rising from her chair.

“They’re going to love you.”

She dropped back into her seat with an unladylike ‘umph’. “I don’t belong here, Killian. This,” she gestured at the grandeur surrounding them, “it isn’t me. I’m an orphan, not a princess.”

His fingers found her chin and gently turned her to face him, until she had no choice but to reluctantly meet his gaze. The unwavering sincerity there took her breath away. “Emma, you are the princess.”

She inhaled sharply. There wasn’t a trace of a lie in his words, but she had no idea where this new conviction had come from. “How are you so sure?” She asked, hating how small and hopeful her voice sounded.

He smiled softly, quirking his head to one side to keep her eyes on his. Just as he was about to open his mouth to explain though, Regina’s hand fell on her shoulder.

“It’s time.”

Emma took a deep breath, nodded her head at no one in particular, and pushed herself to stand, tall and proud. “Where are they?”

“In a drawing room off the eastern corridor. They tend to stay away from the main celebrations these days.” Regina replied, skirting them around the edges of the dancing crowd. Emma tried not to stumble as she avoided people and attempted to pull on her gloves at the same time.

“I reckon it would be difficult to be at one of these, after what they went through.” Killian muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. It made sense, Emma hadn’t put it together herself, but she could understand why the Royal Family would avoid balls, considering they’d lost everything at one. Now she was unsure why they were there at all.

Regina huffed, “What we went through. But, yes, it is difficult for all of us. Snow is the one who insisted, once we came out of hiding, that we attend things like this. She says it shows people we aren’t afraid.” From her tone of voice, she had some differing opinions on the matter.

“So why aren’t they out here?” Emma asked. “If the point is to be seen, wouldn’t it be better to be where everyone else is?”

Regina sighed as made their way into a wide corridor, “The search for- well...you, has been trying on all of us. Young woman who don’t get through my interview have a tendency to accost them at events like this. It’s…unpleasant.”

Emma blinked. She hadn’t really thought of it from the Royals’ perspective. They had spent years searching for their lost daughter, meeting countless fakes and opportunists. It must be tiring, getting their hopes up, only to have them dashed. She swallowed- was that what she was doing? Was she just another woman who wanted the chance to be a princess, another fake who would shatter their hopes once more? That was the last thing she wanted. She knew that no hope was far better than false hope, and she didn’t want to hurt grieving parents any further. Maybe it would be better to just forget the whole thing now. She probably wasn’t the princess anyways. She nearly turned away, but caught Killian’s gaze before she had the chance- as confident and unwavering as before.

Regina stopped them before a large oak door, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“What?!” Emma had thought for sure Regina would be in there, advocating her.

Regina smiled, “You really don’t need me for this part.” Before Emma could protest, she was halfway down the corridor.

“It’ll be fine, Swan. I’ll go in and announce you properly.” His hand landed on the door handle, but she held him back.

“Wait…”

“What?” He looked at her, confused.

“I just…” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. Or, rather, there were too many things she wanted to say. She wanted to thank him for re-assuring her, for standing by her side. She wanted to tell him that she cared for him and that, whether or not she was the princess, that wasn’t going to change. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t quite sure she wanted the life of a princess at all.

He was eyeing her, one eyebrow raising and then the other as she tried to sort out her thoughts. There was a spark of happiness behind his eyes, some sort of anticipation, but she wasn’t sure why.

So many things to say, but nothing would come out. So instead, she shook her head, “I just wanted to thank you, I guess….yes, thank you. I know I said it last night, but I really do appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

His face fell a little, but he smiled at her nonetheless, “I already told you, love, it was no problem at all.”

He turned back to door, and Emma couldn’t help but feel she had missed an opportunity. When he stilled once more, though, her heart jumped.

“Emma…” He looked towards her.

“Yes?” She asked, leaning forward just a bit, the torchlight catching on the jewels of her tiara. Killian’s eyes flickered towards it briefly, and a mask fell across his face.

“You’re going to make a wonderful princess.” He pushed his way into the drawing room then, letting the door swing closed behind him. Emma couldn’t deny the disappointment she felt in that moment, though she wasn’t sure of the cause. Some small part of her may have been hoping for a declaration from Killian, but the rest of her screamed that it was too soon for that. Her entire world was changing, she didn’t need to deal with a romantic entanglement as well. A more persuasive part of her believed it was because he mentioned the princess thing. This wasn’t about that, not to her anyway, this was about finding a home- a family. She had thought he understood that.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************

Killian wove through the crowded ballroom behind Emma and Regina, paying very little attention to their conversation. When he had attempted to join in, he managed to annoy the Queen-Mother, and he decided against opening his mouth again. He was there for Emma, that thought played through his mind on loop. It didn’t matter what he felt right now, he was going to help her reunite with her family. When she looked to him for support, he pushed aside everything else, and let his faith in her shine through.

Coming to a halt outside a heavy, ornately-carved door, beyond which Killian presumed the Prince and the Queen were located, Regina announced that she would be leaving them. He had guessed that would be the case after she had revealed that she was helping them against Snow White’s own wishes. The two may be reconciled, but he doubted Regina would want to incur her step-daughter’s anger. In addition, he rather expected she was eager to find his mate for a dance or several back in the main hall.

Emma, however, had not been expecting that. He rushed to reassure her when he noticed the beginnings of panic creeping into her eyes.

“It’ll be fine, Swan,” He dipped his head in an encouraging nod, “I’ll go in and announce you properly.”

Best get it over with quickly, he thought, gripping the bronze door handle.

“Wait…”

Her unexpected command rooted him to the spot, and he swiveled his head towards her, wondering what could possibly hold her back from the moment she had been anxiously awaiting all evening.

“What?”

“I just…” She began, trailing off as she tried to sort out what she wanted to say. He studied her face curiously as it seemed to pass through several emotions. There was something there that he hadn’t seen before- or hadn’t noticed- he didn’t want to put a name to it, but it made his heart beat wildly with hope nonetheless. He tried to keep any expectations off of his face, trying equally hard to tamp them down inside himself, but the latter was the tougher battle.

When she shook her head slightly and thanked him, in her endearing, babbling way, he felt that little bit of hope stutter out. With the situation as it was, he hardly felt deserving of even her gratitude. He was just a man who had run a con that turned out to be more real than he could ever have imagined.

He smiled, for her sake, “I already told you, love, it was no problem at all.”

His hand was on the door handle once more, ready to enter the room before him and part with Emma forever. The thought made his heart clench, and he wondered if he should tell her how he felt, if only this once.

“Emma…” He began, not at all sure of his next words.

“Yes?” Her eyes lit up with interest and- dare he hope- anticipation. She leaned forward, as if to hear him better, and a flash of light drew his eye upward. Her tiara. He tried not to let his focus linger there, but his mind stayed even after his eyes had found her’s once more. She was the princess, born to a life of finery and responsibilities. He was a pirate, a con man, and a kitchen boy who had no way of measuring up to her light.

“You’re going to make a wonderful princess.” His words more a reminder to himself than a reassurance for her, but they were all he could give her now. He steeled himself as pushed into the drawing room.

Without even taking a moment to take in his surroundings, Killian swept into the formal bow he still remembered from his childhood.

“I present to you Emma, Princess of Misthaven.” The words left a bitter taste on his tongue, but he managed to get them out anyways- with just the right air of grandeur, if he did say so himself.

Before he had even straightened fully, he heard the voice of the Queen, so similar to the voice he remembered, but filled with years of pain. “No! We’re not seeing any more young women pretending to be my daughter.”

Killian had figured, from Regina’s hints, that the Queen wouldn’t be entirely receptive to this meeting. He had been hoping she would be a little calmer than this though. The Snow White he had known as a child would have turned him down politely, even if she thought he was up to no good. Instead, it seemed she was in a mood to be stubborn and he couldn’t have that, not when Emma was so close to having everything she wanted.

“Your Majesty, if you would just see her, I’m sure you’ll-”

The Queen pushed herself off her chair by the fire. She was taller than her daughter- who had inherited the large part of her features- and she used that to her advantage now, towering over Killian, though she actually stood a few inches shorter than he. Even with her outward display of strength, he could see the deep-seated sorrow in the depths of her green eyes.

“How much heartache do you expect us to take?”

Shock stole his next words, though the Prince helpfully chose that moment to jump in, attempting to soothe his wife. The couple before Killian hardly bore a resemblance to the benevolent monarchs he had adored as a youth. Their appearances were little changed, but the energy, joy, compassion, and constant hope that had once driven them and infected those around them was lacking. Mentally, he chastised himself for ever thinking he could take advantage of their grief by tricking them with a false daughter. Now that the real one was just outside the door, however, he would not stop until they were reunited.

“No!” Snow spurned her husband’s reassurances, pulling away from the hand he hand laid gently on her arm. “David, I can’t do this anymore.” Killian could hear the exhaustion in those words. Suddenly, he felt he could see their years of fruitless searching laid bare. These were parents who lost their only child; monarchs who had lost their kingdom; people who had been forced to flee their home. And he had the power to right at least some of the wrongs done against them.

“Maybe if we just listen to…”

Killian silently thanked the Prince for being so cooperative, and rushed to introduce himself, dipping once more into an exaggerated bow.

“Killian-”

“Hook.” His heart dropped to his stomach as he raised his head to see Snow White’s attention fixed on his unmoving prosthetic, held proudly in the air as he had bowed.

“As in Captain Hook?” Killian immediately rescinded every bit of gratitude he had just felt for the Prince, cursing him silently instead. This was not going at all as he had planned. There was no use in lying now.

“Aye…” He braced himself even as he replied, knowing his reputation was unlikely to garner him any love with authority figures.

Snow fixed him with a glare, then, her eyes harsher than he could ever recall them being. Even when she had been reprimanding servants, she had always had kind eyes. “I’ve heard about you. You’re the one who was holding auditions for a princess.”

Shit. He had expected it to be bad, but nothing quite so accurate. Some assumptions made on his rather notorious reputation as a pirate, yes, but not knowing the details of his con from across the sea. The shock of it dulled his senses, and he had no time to react before the Prince’s closed fist connected with his jaw. He would admit he probably deserved that, but now was not the time. For once, he really was trying to help.

Hands clamped down on his arms, and he was hauled back to the door, even as he attempted to make them hear out his pleas. He was thrown from the room unceremoniously, stumbling a few steps until he regained his balance. Whirling around, he was prepared to break down the door and make them listen to him, when his eyes landed on the figure by the door. Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes and every line of her face read betrayal.

“Emma…”

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

She stood at the threshold for a moment, pondering when it would be the right time to enter, as she heard Killian announce her as Emma, Princess of Misthaven.

“No! We’re not seeing any more young women pretending to be my daughter.” A woman’s voice drifted out to her through the door, firm and obviously irritated.

“Your Majesty, if you would just see her, I’m sure you’ll-”

Emma heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back, “How much heartache do you expect us to take?” Her heart squeezed painfully. This is exactly what she hadn’t wanted.

“Snow, please…” It was a man’s voice this time, soft and pleading, hopeful- and that was even worse.

“No!” The woman was growing steadily louder, “David, I can’t do this anymore.” She was tired of it all, Emma could tell, and she could hardly blame her.

“Maybe if we just listen to…” The man- David- trailed off, waiting for a name to be supplied.

She could almost see the flourish of Killian’s coat as he dipped into an exaggerated bow, “Killian-”

“Hook.” The woman cut him off before he’d even started. How she knew Killian was Captain Hook, Emma could only guess; something about his prosthetic must have tipped her off.

“As in Captain Hook?” David repeated incredulously.

The grimace was clear in Killian’s voice when he answered, “Aye…”

“I’ve heard about you,” The woman continued, accusation biting through each word, “You’re the one who was holding auditions for a princess.”

Emma gasped. She had known their partnership had started as a scam, of course, but she hadn’t known the extent of it. Regardless of whether Emma had run into them that day, he and Robin would have found someone to play the part. And with Robin, she could understand. He was desperate to get his son to safety and wanted to reunite with his lost love. Killian, though- he was only in it for revenge and money.

She had allowed herself to believe that, over the course of their journey, he had grown fond of her, that he’d actually had her best interests at heart. She had even believed him when he told her she was the princess. Silently, she cursed herself for ever falling for it. She had known it was too good to be true- she was an orphan, not a princess. No one cared for Emma. Still, she had gotten caught up in all their lessons and their enthusiasm. She had let them convince her it was possible. All he had wanted was a princess. He didn’t care at all about Emma or finding her a home.

Tears pricked against her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, not when he could still see them. She remained steadfast by the door as she heard a sickening crack that sounded suspiciously like a fist connecting with flesh, followed by a brief tussle, and a pirate being roughly shoved out the door.

He stumbled a few steps, before he was able to steady himself and meet her eyes. What he saw there, she didn’t know, but whatever it was, it triggered his concern. “Emma..” He began, reaching out to her slowly, as if trying to calm a spooked animal.

Back straight and chin lifted, she refused to let him into her head- and heart- any more than she already had. “Don’t you dare Emma, me!”

His hand fell back to his side.

“You lied to me! You were going to use me to swindle those poor heart-broken parents out of their money!”

His mouth opened as if to protest that, but she pushed past him.

“Swan, wait!” He called, jogging to keep pace beside her. “You don’t understand.”

She stopped again, “No, you don’t understand. You knew I wanted a family and a home and you used that. And all this time, you were just going to take the money and leave?” She hadn’t meant for the last part to be a question, but it was there all the same.

The guilt in his eyes was enough of an answer for her.

She scoffed. “And the worst part is, I had actually started to believe…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, but the sentiment hung in the air. Emma Swan, the orphan, had actually begun to believe that she might be the lost princess, about to be reunited with her family. She had believed that a man might care about her enough to have her best interests at heart. She should have known. Life was never that kind to her.

Her hurried steps had her at the threshold to the main ballroom in a moment, and she was about to step through, weave her way between the crowd, and find a place to hide where she could forget all of this, when Killian grabbed her arm.

“Swan, you have to listen to me.”

Anger tore through her in a searing flash, and she whipped around, slapping him hard across the cheek. It was only then that she noticed a small bit of blood from the other side of his lip; seemed like the Prince had hit him, after all. Shoving down any feelings of remorse or sympathy as his hand dropped her arm to cover his injured cheek, she took advantage of his momentary surprise to make her escape, moving more quickly than before.

By the time he recovered and began calling for her over the noise of the room, she was halfway through the crowd, making her way for the door. She thought she heard desperation and concern in his voice, but she knew better now. He was a pirate and a con-artist and she had fallen for his tricks. The tears that had been threatening now carved rapid tracks down her face, chilling her skin as she stepped out into the cool night air.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first time writing fanfic, so feedback is always welcome.
> 
> This is an idea I've been working on for a while now. There are so many great parallels between Dmitri/Anastasia and Captain Swan. I wanted to write something that keeps the spirit of Anastasia, while twisting around the details to better fall in line with the OUAT timeline. I also felt a mighty need to write some backstory and action for Robin.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!


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